


Security Measures

by Winterstar



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Amnesia, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2020-02-28 05:10:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 63,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: The last thing Tony wanted as he headed off to grad school was a bodyguard. But the powers that be (read that Howard and his spy pal, Director Fury) decided Tony needed to be protected at all costs. It meant that Tony would have a Commander Steve Rogers following him around campus. Tony's mother urged him to accept it. The world was a dangerous place these days with different factions, aka Protectorates, vying for control over commodities of all kinds - including one of the most brilliant minds in recent years - Tony Stark. Leaving for MIT with a rigid Commander Rogers at his side, Tony finds there are secrets hidden from both of them. Tony only wanted a little freedom from his parents, but what he got was a mystery, a little excitement, and maybe, just maybe, the love of his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, so I am back writing Stony. Call it a cleansed head space, call it Endgame outcomes, call it just a refreshing view of the Stony world again. Thanks to all of you for taking a chance on this story. 
> 
> This is a LIE ---> I want to note there's no graphic violence, there's no big revolution in this story. This is not that story. This is Tony as a student and Steve as a bodyguard. It is set in the near future -- think about 2045? So there are some differences in this world compared to our own, but it is still very familiar. I hope you enjoy!

Staring out from the glassy steel Towers of the Stark Protectorate, Tony frowned into the settling sun’s rays. The pitch of the daylight off the cityscape around the Main Towers mixing with the orange and yellow hues always set everything into a fiery conflagration of colors. He used to love it as a child, sitting on his mother’s lap in the safety of the Protectorate. The city became the lands of every fairy tale she wove in her gentle voice, a voice that drowned out the discontentment and his disappointment of his father. She told all kinds of tales and Tony lapped it up like a puppy drinking a bowl of sweet milk. Howard, his father, always grumbled in the background, telling his mother to stop with the foolishness. How would Tony ever grow up and mature to take over the responsibilities of the Stark Protectorate. Without a strong person at the helm, the Stark Protectorate and all of the States would collapse. 

Inevitably, Howard would yank Tony out of his mother’s arms and away from the engrossing stories of the city and the lives below to forcibly march him to his tutors’ classrooms. Of course, Tony loved to learn, it wasn’t that he hid from schoolwork. He adored his work in the technology exploration labs, especially those focusing on nanotechnology and robotics. He whizzed through mathematics until even his teachers failed to challenge him. Biology was a necessary evil if he wanted to understand genetic editing and modifications, while other subjects became the bane of his existence especially history and world economic history. He fought daily with the historians and their – what he called – warped view of history.

“That’s not how it works at all,” Tony would growl at them.

“The Protectorates grew out of necessity in the early 21st century after the ruling on Citizen’s United.” The teacher – a tall man with a pinched face that looked like someone stuck an old-fashioned wooden clothesline on his forehead and pulled all of his skin upward. 

“I fucking know that!” Tony yelled back at him. “What I’m saying is that the Protectorates weren’t supposed to be about protecting corporate interests. They were supposed to be about taking care of people’s needs after the disaster of Citizen’s United.”

“That’s not at all what your father believes and not what he condones. The Protectorates were formed to consolidate power. It was necessary to secure countries and corporations in our society. Without the Protectorates-.”

“Without the Protectorates,” Tony interrupted. “Don’t give me your hogwash. You know, I’m not a little kid anymore.” Which was and wasn’t true at the time. He had been all of ten years old and still loved to sit with his mother and watch the city while listening to her stories. “Protectorates were first unions and then turned to organized local citizens to fight the Supreme Court ruling that ended up with the Wall Street powers that be taking them over.”

“You listen to me, you little snot, your father owns and runs one of the Protectorates. The biggest one. Without the Stark Protectorate, the United States falls apart. You get that? It’s how it works. It doesn’t matter if it was borne of some commie idea, it’s converted now. That’s what you need to know and that’s what you will say on your tests.”

Tony hadn’t said it and Howard had found out how Tony spouted about unions and citizen’s rights. It nearly took down the whole Protectorate. Well, he smirked as he stared out into the hazy city, not really. It could have, but it didn’t. They squirreled away his answers to the tests and passed him onto his qualifying exams without blinking. 

At least he didn’t need to take anymore history classes. At least he was getting out of the Protectorate and going to New England for school. His father would never forgive him for not choosing to stay within the boundaries of the Protectorate. His mother cried when he announced he intended to go back East and away from their sunny Protectorate in California. Of course, that didn’t mean a Protectorate wasn’t close at hand. One of Howard Stark’s closest allies was the SHIELD Protectorate. While he was getting out from under the ever watchful eyes of his family’s Protectorate, Howard insisted that a SHIELD agent be assigned to Tony while he was East, as if being on the other side of the continent meant he was going into the wilds or roaming around Middle Earth and orcs were sniffing around looking for him.

He sighed as he gazed out across the expanse of the city. He loved the city, just not the confines of it. It was once part of a sprawling metropolis, from Malibu through Los Angeles to Huntington Beach and Dana Point. It stretched east across the state of California to San Bernadino. Sure, they were all separate cities in their own right, but the Stark Protectorate essentially ran them all with his father at the head of the Protectorate Council. His little fiefdom curdled Tony’s guts and he wanted nothing more to do with it. Tony might love to stare out into the wash of the ocean waves, but the truth of the matter was, the Protectorate stifled everything about life to him. 

Leaving was the right thing to do, even if he would miss Jarvis and Ana. They’d been like surrogate parents to Tony. While his real parents had been away setting up the Protectorates, lobbying in DC and all over the States for the infrastructure to establish mammoth oversight of citizens’ movements and unionization, Jarvis and Ana stayed true to Tony. They took care of him, answered his questions, maybe even corrupted him under his father’s nose. Tony always took a little bit of secret delight in the idea that Howard hadn’t a clue as to where Tony got his workers’ rights ideas. With the Protectorates subsuming all of what unions had tried to do for citizen and then twisting it to the needs of the monetary powers on Wall Street, Tony only wanted escape. 

Going to graduate school away from it all seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But unfortunately, these were not – according to his father and his mother – safe times. So, Tony had been assigned a bodyguard. 

Scratching at his newly grown beard, Tony grunted under his breath. The bodyguard they assigned was supposed to arrive tonight. Once he or she arrived, then they were to have a dinner or party or something. It would be Tony’s farewell feast. Somehow, he felt like a lamb to the slaughter. For fuck’s sake he was just going to school – he wasn’t dying. But his mother feared for his welfare ‘out there’. Even though she grew up without Protectorates. She grew up in cities! In New York City to be exact and she did just fine. In fact, they still had a mansion in the city which was now under the SHIELD Protectorate. A SHIELD bodyguard would be arriving to babysit him the entire time he studied at MIT. How fucking ridiculous was that? He wasn’t a child – he’d turned eighteen and started his graduate career at sixteen. He’d only just decided it would be better to transfer. Most students avoided transferring as a grad student, but Tony had no fears in it. Professors clamored to get him in their lab. His preliminary exams were completed. All he had to do was work on his thesis. It shouldn’t take more than a year or so. He was that fucking smart. Of course, he had some ideas that might constitute staying for an extra doctorate or three, but that didn’t intimidate him. Neither did having a damned bodyguard because he planned to give the slip to the bodyguard as soon as possible. Surely no bodyguard wanted to take on the duty of protecting some kid all day and night long. That would be demeaning. 

A knock sounded on his bedroom door and he turned away from the balcony and the cityscape around him. The after images burned his retinas and he was momentarily blinded by the past. Blinking it away, he went to the door and creaked it open a sliver. He’d been expecting Jarvis, but it was his mother. 

“Dear, you’re not dress.” She reached in and tugged on his Mister Softie t-shirt. “Get this off and get into something presentable. Dinner is at eight. Your bodyguard is set to arrive in less than fifteen minutes.” She pushed open the door. “Good lord, Tony. Your face.”

“What’s wrong with my face?” She licked her finger and then rubbed it along his cheek. He batted her gently away. “Mom, stop.”

“You have grease or something on your face. You want to make a good impression-.”

“It’s a bodyguard, Mom, not a date.” He wiped at his face. Why did people think it was okay to spit on their finger and then rub it on his face? 

“Well, still you want to make a good impression. This man or woman will be protecting you while you are over there. You know how they are in the East,” his mother said.

“No, I don’t.” He yanked off his shirt. He liked Mister Softie. What was wrong with Mister Softie? “Mom, the whole point of me going East is that you lived there. You come from New York-.”

“That was before the Protectorates. When we all lived like heathens in cities and states. Now with the Protectorates.” She stopped. His mother lost her steam as she stared at his disgruntled expression. She patted his shoulders. “I know, dear. I understand. You need to get out from under his – our thumbs. You need to live a little. Just remember the Protectorates grew out of a need.”

“A need to suppress the will of the peop-.”

“Lord, Tony, even in a tender moment? When your mother is trying to tell you that she loves you? That she cares what you want?” She huffed at him. Even as he tried to formulate the proper response – because above all else he didn’t want to disappoint her. In fact, he never wanted to disappoint either one of them. But his viewpoints, his life, what he wanted from it, Howard called divergent and a distraction. His mother only sighed (a little too dramatically for his tastes). 

He relented. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Her worn eyes softened. “No, you won’t. You always promise you will, but you won’t and that’s okay.” She leaned in, kissed his cheek. “I love you anyway.” When she stepped away, she smiled. “And for pity’s sake take a shower you smell like a diesel engine.”

She left him as he furrowed his brow and sniffed his arm pits. He admitted he did smell a little ripe. But engine? Where did his mother get that. “Well, off to the shower.” 

Tony went to his closet, rummaged around for clothes. He didn’t want to make this a formal affair. This was his bodyguard, not his date. Most of his school clothes and other things had already been packed and shipped across the country. What he had left were the things he most hated. Which could work in his favor. He snickered. He could really play around with the bodyguard, throw him off, or her. It could be fun. It presented a whole new avenue of being as his father called him – a smart aleck son of a bitch.

Selecting his best suit and a silk tie, Tony also pulled out a shirt. He laid everything on the bed and then went to his bathroom. It didn’t take him long to get his shower finished. He did stink a little, and, considering he spent the last few days tinkering in the garage with nary a break, he was bound to offer a most unpleasant stench. Too bad his mother said something. If she hadn’t noticed, Tony would have gotten dressed to the nines but not bathed. That would put off the bodyguard. 

Why couldn’t Rhodey be his bodyguard?

It’s all kinds of wrong. But Rhodey was off doing his Air Force thing, and there was no way his father approve. Rhodey’s family decided to ‘on purpose’ leave the Protectorate and live in a city not part of any Protectorate. How terrible is that? Tony rolled his eyes and turned off the shower. Many people didn’t live under the benefit of the Protectorates, but then again, many people only saw the disadvantages of an overlord. Tony laughed again. His father hated it when Tony called him an overlord.

“You better damned well get used to it,” Howard had lashed out one evening during dinner. Thankfully Tony’s mom had her Social Club that night and wasn’t joining them. “Before the Protectorates the whole of the States was a mess. Infrastructure falling on our head – literally. The Golden Gate nearly toppled into the bay because it wasn’t maintained. There were no funds. Nothing. You don’t know, son. You just don’t know.”

“Well then tell me. _Dad_.” He snapped back at Howard.

Howard slammed his fork down, upsetting the peas on his plate so that they rolled around on the fine table cloth. “No one wanted to increase taxes to pay for the roads, the schools, nothing. Healthcare was folly. There was nothing. People tried to unionize and get things going that way.” He settled back in his chair. “You don’t know how it was. The unions became crime centers.”

“Or so you say-.”

“It doesn’t matter what I say son,” Howard retorted. “One way or another the whole of the States became a battle ground for this faction or that faction. Whoever had the most money won. The only way to change things was by the legal agreements that formalized business relationships with that of government. It went beyond acquisitions and contracts. It turned it on its head. Don’t you listen in history? What the hell are they teaching you?”

“Enough.”

But it wasn’t enough. Howard spent the next hour lecturing Tony on the benefits of the dozen or so Protectorates set up across the United States. A mutual agreement between the private sector and the public one to provide what was needed for the citizens for a whole lot of privilege for the Protectorates. It made an imbalance of laws and equalities through out the United States, but the Supreme Court upheld the existence of the Protectorates. They flourished and now they were going international. 

People of Tony’s generation hated it all, but he couldn’t see a way out. He just wanted to fucking do his studies and forget about shit like politics and economic dominance. 

He quickly towel dried his hair and it looked awful but a comb wasn’t going to be the magic ticket to get it tamed. So, he just left it as it was and checked on his beard. Not much happiness there. He looked a little like a kid who’d played with a sharpie. “When is this thing going to grow in,” Tony muttered. But he still put on some cologne and after shave – too much so that his bodyguard’s eyes would tear. He chuckled to himself as he dressed in his navy blue suit, powder blue shirt, and black and silver tie. It looked okay, but not as impressive as he wanted. 

He went back to his closet and frowned. “I really need a red suit.” He closed the bifold doors and straightened his shoulders before checking the time. He was a good fifteen minutes late.

“Perfect.”

Tony headed out of his room, going to the elevators. The Main Towers of the Stark Protectorate included not only the business floors of the building but also the penthouse for the residing (read that ruling) family. Since Howard sat at the head of the Board and was the CEO he effectively ruled the Protectorate and the cities under it’s skirts. Though no one really said that at all. Tony stood at the elevators and pressed the button. He looked at the distorted reflection of himself in the metallic doors of the elevator. Oblong and bulbous he looked like a circus clown. That’s how his father always treated him, but Tony knew better. Tony knew that Howard understood the value of his son’s brain. All the Protectorates wanted to rise above all the others. Stark Protectorate just happened to be top dog most of the time because its Industries offered the best weapons and defenses to the United States. Other Protectorates like SHIELD happened to have a wealth of covert, spy, and counter intelligence. While smaller Protectorates in the plains states moved food production and manufacturing to an art form. Each and every Protectorate looked for talent and exploited it. Howard wasn’t a dummy, Tony knew that – and Tony knew his own worth.

The doors opened and Tony stepped on. Time for the party. As the doors closed and he pressed the floor for the penthouse lounge, Tony released a breath. God, all he wanted was to be left out of this dog and pony show. But he supposed he was one of the ponies for Howard to show off and sell. Well, never sell. Howard had a keen mind and would never get rid of his golden horse. One day the Protectorate would be Tony’s and the world would be at his feet. He wondered if he would be like his mother – a forward thinker as a young woman but those high standards tarnished with age and rusted away. She’d been a progressive back in the day, but no more. True Protectorate advocate now. They say revolutions are for the young, Tony just wanted to find his way to his studies and to forget the juggernaut of politics and Protectorates.

The bell rang announcing the floor and Tony inhaled, exhaled and stepped out onto the main lounge floor. Immediately it became clear that this wasn’t a routine little get together but a full-fledged farewell party. Streamers hung from the arch way into the large lounge area with its cathedral ceilings and floor to ceiling windows looking out at the glimmering city as twilight blanketed the buildings. The number of people obscured the strategically placed sofas and couches that either formed conversation areas around the slate black fireplace or more toward the east part of the building, the large flat screen television. Toward the windows and partially blocking the view was the bar. Without pause, Tony beelined it for some liquid courage. While he always made a show of it, he secretly hated large crowds. How many people had his parents invited? It looked like the Board and half the top executives with their spouses, plus investors in the Protectorate were milling about the lounge. Of course, Tony’s going away party and not one of his friends were in sight. 

So, it wasn’t really a farewell my son, we love you party, but more of a look investors and board members and execs we have a future planned and this is our commodity, Tony Stark. He growled under his breath but drank down the whiskey handed to him by the bartender. He shouldn’t be drinking, he actually hated the taste of the stuff, and it reminded him of everything that was wrong about Howard. Yet, once in a while it smoothed the ruffled edges of life. He finished off the tumbler and walked through the throng of well wishers. Some actually took the time to shake his hand and pat him on the back. 

Tony cringed and smiled and pretended for a whole thirty minutes before he escaped out of the sliding door to the balcony. He spent a lot of his youth hanging on balconies of the Main Towers. It felt good to get out of the stuffy air even if he hadn’t been subjected to it for too terribly long. The winds had picked up he could smell the ocean. There wasn’t a chill in the air, but he still tightened his shoulders. He just wanted out.

“A bit too stuffy in there?” 

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin. The shadow behind him moved and, as if materializing from the darkness, a woman not too many years older than him, around his height with bright red hair and full lips appeared. She was in a skin tight body suit that should restrict her movements, but he would bet she knew her way around the limitations of her outfit. She eyed him and every moment of her perusal sent alarm bells shivering down his spine. Maybe he did need a bodyguard after all.

“I’m not one for crowds, either, if I can help it. But sometimes the job demands it, if you know what I mean?” She sauntered toward him, her blue green eyes never lifting from his gaze. He felt like he’d walked into a trap and the Medusa had paralyzed him with her stare. There might not be serpents in her hair but the way the woman moved slithered through the air and froze Tony in fright.

“I don’t.” It was all he could manage. He didn’t even know how to respond to her.

“Out here all alone. How many stories up?” She went to the clear railing that fooled the eye and made it looked like there wasn’t a barrier to a sudden drop. She leaned over it. “What is it thirty? Fifty? A hundred?”

Did it matter? If she was going to push him over, thirty or fifty stories would still result in pancake Tony Stark. No two ways about that at all. 

“Commodities are a value these days,” she whispered. Her words were throaty and seductive, but her eyes showed innocence and a little bit of playfulness. In some ways she reminded him of a cat on the hunt. 

“I’m just enjoying my drink,” Tony said and then instantly remembered he left the tumbler on the bar. “The view. I’m enjoying the view.” He rushed the words out as if making the correction would stop her from flipping him over the rail. 

She made a little hmm noise and raised her brow as she peered over the rail again. “I heard that there’re Protectorates out there that would kill for the chance to have such a commodity in their ranks. Or if they can’t have them, they’re good with just dumping them, making sure they don’t offer anything of value ever again to anyone else.”

He stepped closer to the door, but she mimicked him, getting in his way. She smiled. It chilled him.

“Ever hear of the Mandarin Protectorate?”

He nodded. His friend Maya Hensen from college had been abducted by the Mandarin Protectorate. They converted her or something – maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome or maybe it was staged no one knew – and now she was making human bombs and blowing up other Protectorates or vulnerable cities all across the globe. “Yeah,” he managed to mumble.

“Not someone who’d like to meet up here so high up.” Her voice had a sing song quality to it. It reminded him of Kaa, the snake in the Jungle Book. 

“Natasha, are you trying to give our charge a heart attack before he even hits the legal drinking age?”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat as he realized another person appeared from the shadows. He recognized him immediately. Nick Fury. He’d been nosy around the Stark Protectorate for years now. He directed the SHIELD Protectorate out of DC. No wonder he was here for his final victory lap. Getting to protect Tony when he went to school in the East meant that SHIELD and Stark Protectorates were consolidating their power. Whatever the hell that meant for the future, Tony wanted to ignore it and stick his face in a book or at least in a motor somewhere and just tinker. 

“Well, he’s a little oblivious to the dangers he’s in.”

“What are you some weird ass spy?” Tony spat out which was a perfectly terrible come back. Of course, she was a spy they were all spies in the SHIELD Protectorate. How fucking stupid could he be?

“Where’s Clint?” Fury asked.

“He’s got his eyes on the prize,” Natasha said, and her sight line went to the other Tower – there were two Main Towers of the Stark Protectorate with multiple smaller towers gathered around the base. The penthouse tower was the West Tower and the office building with executive functions included resided in the East Tower. 

Tony glanced toward the East Tower and wondered if someone sat there with a high powered automatic rifle pointed at his head because he failed to catch any sight of the guy at all. 

“Well, shall we?” Fury asked and waited for some sign from Tony.

“Shall we what? Strangle me? Dance? Have the guy with the automatic weapon put a slug between my eyeballs?” He stated it with all the bravado he could muster. The fact of the matter was Howard had no idea if the SHIELD Protectorate actually intended to keep their end of the bargain or if they were going to walk away with the prize or simply kill Tony to get him out of the picture and return the balance of power to an uneasy truce. 

The woman, Fury called her Natasha, gave him a half smile half smirk and shook her head. “No automatic weapons for Clint, he’s kind of an old-fashioned guy.”

What the hell that meant Tony had no idea and couldn’t fathom a guess. After a beat, he decided the best mode of action was to escape the swarm of SHIELD agents and just get the whole damned farewell party over with right now. He swallowed hard and gave a salute to Fury with his dramatic leather eye patch – Tony had his doubts about whether or not the eye patch was for effect or was really needed. He slipped by the spy, but she eyed him the entire time but Tony finally made it back into the sweltering lounge and the party. 

He’d be happy to be away from the whole crowd and looked forward to the idea of graduate school. Further his mind, blah blah blah. He just wanted to get away from the shelter of the Protectorate and everything it symbolized. He needed to roam free, get out. Breathe. 

Just as he went to the bar to check on getting another drink after some Senator and her husband spent a good five minutes drooling over Tony and pushing far too close to him, Howard decided it was time for a speech. Tony only curled into the corner of the bar with his elbow on the bar and his face hidden as Howard spoke.

“Welcome, welcome all here tonight!” The audience gave a very tepid round of applause. Many of the investors were here to scope out both the strengths and the weaknesses of the Stark Industry and the Protectorate. “As you all know, we have a lot to celebrate tonight.” Howard raised his glass. He stood on the platform close to the elevators. “To my son, Anthony, may he bring our two Protectorates together and make a bridge between the East and the West.”

The audience offered another round of applause, but it wasn’t rousing, and Tony felt the pinch of shared embarrassment for his father. Tony searched around and saw his mother anxiously standing to the side, her hand to her mouth. Tony grimaced. This wasn’t an engagement, but they were acting like it was a contract that would seal the two Protectorates together for a lifetime. It was blatantly silly. 

“Nick! Nick!” Howard called as he spotted the spy enter into the lounge from the balcony. “Come. We should introduce our two main players of the contract between the Protectorates.” Fury glared at Tony as if it was his fault that his father was an idiot, but he acquiesced to the request and started to make his way through the crowd. It parted like the Red Sea. Natasha and another man – tall, blonde, with a fucking impossible shoulder to waist ratio followed him. Tony stared and gulped a little air because he forgot to breathe. How the hell did that man get into the dark blue uniform. It followed every contour, every muscle, every sinew. The subtle red strip inside the flank and ribbing the leg accentuated the slimness but the strength at the same time. God, he was beautiful. Who the hell was he?

Fury took his place next to Howard. He didn’t smile, he only glowered. Natasha – whom Tony assumed would be the bodyguard to fucking terrify him and his friends for the next few years stepped up to the platform as well. The blonde followed but stood to the side at parade rest as if he was in the military. Where did he come from? Had he been out on the balcony as well. Perhaps he was the faceless Clint – how the hell did he get from the East Tower to the West in that amount of time? Maybe he’s some weird guy who climbs buildings. Or something. 

“Nick, this is a real beginning for us. Stark Industries has always worked with our great country’s defense department. We’ve strived over the years to bring the best and boldest solutions to the problems of the military.”

Someone from the crowd yelled, “Tell us about the gigantic arc reactor, Howard!”

Tony winced. That had been a promise not kept by Stark Industries. The arc reactor, the science behind it worked – sure. But the fact was the energy cell could not be miniaturized no matter what the scientists in the R&D did. The whole damned thing sat in the middle of the lobby of the East Tower and throbbed a pulsing blue light, but it continued to be no more than a parlor show, a sideshow trick and nothing else. Howard sold the idea of it to the military or tried to, but it failed. That failure very nearly cost Howard the company and the Protectorate. Tony’s latest designs of surface to air missiles with his own invention for guidance systems – based on migratory bird genetics (a little bit of fooling around one hot afternoon came to fruition) happened to save the company and the Stark name on the Protectorate. 

Howard steamed a little, but he tilted his head and grinned. “We all have dents in our armor, now don’t we? But luckily, we have at Stark Industries one of the most brilliant minds that the next generation has to offer. Tony? Tony, come up here.”

His mother’s gaze immediately met his – how did she do that he would never know. Her pleading look forced him to act, and his feet, of their own volition, started forward while his palms grew sweaty and his heart decided that trying to break through his sternum might be a good final act. Usually, Tony managed crowds and people like a pro, but tonight seemed too surreal as if his life switched gears from one of a rich kid going to school to a pawn in an ever increasingly dangerous game of chess. 

As he wove through the crowd, his father’s right-hand man, Obadiah Stane grabbed his arm, leaned down, and whispered, “You got this kid. Just like I taught you.”

Those words re-inflated his courage and he nodded once to Obie and then to his mother before he took the single step to the platform. Howard, in his always irritating mock closeness, wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders and gave him a little shake. “With the Protectorates well established in our country and the expansion into Europe, India, and Japan, there’s more work to be done. Stark and SHIELD are at the forefront of the newest expansion. Tony, my son, is going to be our secret weapon. Aren’t you son?”

Tony only smiled as his father raised his tumbler. The crowd gave a more pleasing reaction, some clapping, others hollering approvals. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, my greatest creation, Tony Stark!” Howard stepped away from Tony as the party attendees all clapped. It was genuine, warming, and, at the same time, frightening. What did these people expect of him? He wasn’t a savior; he was just a kid who wanted to go to school.

Fury standing next to Howard, scoffed darkly and soon raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “I know you’re all excited about this new partnership between SHIELD and Stark. It’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not a finalized partnership. Not yet. The Stark Protectorate has to deliver on their promises-.”

Howard jumped in, “And SHIELD has to protect my son.”

“And we’ve assigned one of our greatest agents.” 

Tony caught Natasha’s gaze, but she only did that half smile and then turned back to listen to Fury. It was strange because, Tony never thought of Fury as the kind of guy (spy) who liked to stand in the limelight and make pronouncements. Maybe they couldn’t get the regular admin guy, the regular bureaucrat. Or maybe, just maybe Fury had something up his sleeve that he had to do some slight of hand with Tony’s father. That was far more likely. 

Well, if Tony had to suffer with Natasha following him around everywhere that wouldn’t be too bad, would it? Age wise she was probably only a few years older than him – which scared the shit out of him. How did someone so young get so far in life already. But then again, he was eighteen going into grad school. Maybe Natasha was some kind of spy/assassin protégé. Was that a thing? He screwed up his face and looked at her. Really, was she an assassin genius? How many ways could she kill him with a pen or an eraser? An eraser would be harder to kill someone with – but she would know how. He imagined her fighting off the foes, the evil doers falling all over themselves but Natasha rose above them all, like an archangel of vengeance and justice.

“Commander Rogers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony snapped to attention in time to see the blonde headed man with the dark blue uniform that had ridiculous silver star embellishment on the chest, raise his hand with a tiny wave. His cheeks went red with embarrassment and he seriously looked like a deer in headlights. 

“Commander Steven Rogers has years of experience and we know he will do well in this position,” Fury said.

Howard looked like a lobster about to explode out of a boiling pot. He was surely sideswiped as well with the announcement of Rogers as the bodyguard. The audience clapped again but, clearly, Commander Rogers planned on saying nothing. He only said a quick thank you and that he would ensure the safety of Mister Stark’s son. That was it, he stepped back and fell into parade rest again.

What the hell? Tony shared another look with Natasha. He only knew her less than an hour but already there was a conspiratorial air around how she glanced at him, like he should be in on the joke too. He suddenly wanted the assassin assigned to the East Tower, Clint or whomever. What the hell?

The announcement broke up again after Howard saved face and offered his support and excitement at the new assignment. It looked like he was spitting chewed nails at Fury, who carefully and way too politically astute for someone in his position, ignored. 

Natasha walked up to Tony and said, “Wanna meet your bodyguard.”

“You did that on purpose,” Tony said.

She winked at him. “Sure I did.” Then she turned around and waved to the Commander – who for fuck’s sake was playing with a flip phone. A flip phone. Good god, Grandpa in a pretty boy wrapping. Tony had to admit the wrapping was beautiful, but the distant stare and the use of ancient equipment stuck daggers in that impression. 

“Rogers, come here.” She took Tony by the wrist and kept him in place as the Commander slipped the phone in a pocket and joined them. 

“Anthony, Mister Stark, nice to meet you. I’m Commander Rogers, I’ll be your bodyguard.” He offered a hand to Tony. He wore fingerless gloves and Tony noticed his nails were perfect – not ragged edges or chewed cuticles like his own were from time to time.

“Tony,” he found himself saying. “I don’t go by Anthony and Mister Stark is my father. I plan one day to go by Doctor Stark.”

Rogers cleared his throat and bobbed a beat before he said, “Tony then. You can call me Steve, if you want. Or if you feel that’s too casual, then you can call me Rogers or Commander.”

“What? I’m not allowed to call you by your middle name at all,” Tony said, and Rogers only furrowed his brows at him as if he’d tossed a football at a baseball game. “Well, every other opinion was given – you know what, forget it.” Tony waved the joke away, but it lingered like a bad smell. 

“Okay,” Rogers said and then put his hands behind his back. He acted too military. Tony’d seen enough of the military types in his day to know one.

“So Natasha tells me you served,” Tony said and Natasha sneered at him, but she couldn’t stop Rogers from confirming it without looking foolish.

“Yes, I did in the Army. A while ago,” Rogers said. “Been out for a while too.”

Tony tried to compute it in his head. Commander was a rank above Captain in the Army wasn’t it? No that wasn’t right – there was no Commander in the Army, but maybe it was Marines but that didn’t work out either since they followed the same rank scale as the Army. What about Air Force or Navy? Navy worked because Commander was right below Captain – which was the same as an Army Colonel – so essentially Rogers had the rank of a Lt. Colonel in the Army, but now he was in the Navy? That made no sense.

“Army, but you’re a Commander,” Tony spilled. He shouldn’t have said anything, but it got him a sidelong look from the Commander to Natasha, as if she was his handler. 

“SHIELD has different ranks. Steve was a Captain in the Army.” 

“Captain Steve Rogers.” Tony laughed. “Just like Captain America in the old days. Remember those serials? Comic books. God-.” He stopped and slapped Rogers on the arm (and shit that man was rigid – and muscly very muscly). “You even look a little like him.”

“Do-do I?” Rogers put his hand on his chest and referred back to Natasha. She only shook her head. The Commander cleared his throat. “Anyhow I will keep my promise to always keep you safe.”

“I’m going to school, Commander. I think you’re going to be pretty bored most of the time,” Tony said.

“Don’t worry, I have a lot to do in my off time.” 

Tony wanted to quiz the Commander about what that meant. Was the Commander also on some weird intelligence mission at MIT? That made little sense. But the truth of the matter was that New England was one of the few places in the States that still lived free of Protectorates. Maybe the Commander was going there to get information to use against the Open Class area. Tony hated the Commander on the spot – who cared how very handsome he was – the man was there to rip down the last vestiges of a society free of oligarchy rule or whatever the hell they called it these days. 

The Commander stood there with this expectant look on his face like a fucking golden retriever puppy or something. Right then and there, Tony decided he wasn’t taking any of this shit and said, “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.” He went to leave but Natasha pre-empted him. 

“The Commander is assigned to protect you starting now.”

“What? I’m in my own home with my parents, and in the Stark Protectorate. What’s to protect? Is he gonna help me win Battle Royale in Fortnite?” The look of surprise and puzzlement over the Commander’s face answered that question. “I suppose not. So, there’s nothing to protect.”

“He’ll go with you, that’s the deal.”

“And what, sleep on my floor in my bedroom because I’m not sharing a bed with the hulk here.” He thumbed it to the Commander who turned all shades of red. At least he didn’t look offended like the idea of sharing a bed with a guy might be disgusting to him.

“I can sleep on the floor or a couch. No issue. I’ve slept in worse places,” Rogers said and then muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like _I think_.

“Oh good, so you are a golden retriever puppy,” Tony remarked. “Fine. Come, but don’t get in my way.”

Rogers followed Tony through the crowd, a little closer than he’d hoped. Slipping out and getting rid of his tail was going to be down right impossible. So, he ambled along with Rogers a step behind him all the way. When the got into the elevator Rogers insisted on checking it first and that only elicited an eye roll from Tony. 

“You know we have security here at the Towers,” Tony said as he got onto the lift. Rogers stood next to Tony as he pressed the button for his bedroom floor. “You could go home and pack?”

“Already packed. Don’t have much stuff.”

“All about the war, right?” Tony said. He’d seen enough military types to know the headspace they resided in.

“What?” Rogers said and quirked his brow. “I don’t understand. According to Fury you are-.”

“A valuable asset. That’s all I am an asset to them. And to you,” Tony replied. He pointed a finger at the uniformed jerk, stabbing it into the air as he spoke. “Don’t get this wrong, Lughead. I’m not interested in you following me around campus. I don’t want someone like you around me. You’re everything that represents my father and what he wants to do with his company, with the Protectorate, and, shit, with the country. The country might have sold itself to the defense economy but I sure didn’t.”

“But you still profit from it? Still want to study how to make better bombs. Seems a little hypocritical to me,” Rogers said.

It took Tony’s breath away. He hadn’t expected Rogers to fight back, not with that strangely lost look on his face.

“Yeah I read the reports about you. All about the protests and the social revolution but then you come back and get tucked in to your thousand count threaded sheets and warm bed every night. Going to MIT, to what? To learn how to make a better bomb, that’s what. I know about you, about your false awareness. I get it, _Mister_ Stark.”

An arrow straight to his heart and Tony almost stumbled backward in the elevator, except that it opened, and they stared at one another not moving for too many seconds until it became awkward. Tony smacked his lips and then said, “All right then.” He left the elevator and headed toward his room. He wasn’t tired – shit it was only around nine thirty. He was hungry but not tired. Usually he’d go to his little workshop and get some projects done but everything had been packed up and either shipped to Stark Industries or to his new place in Massachusetts. 

Thinking of having his own loft thrilled Tony. Except now he had a fifth wheel to bog him down. As they walked through Tony’s suite of rooms, he pointed to the sofa. “You can sleep there. I don’t want you in my room. Understand?” He stopped and spun on his heel. His shadow immediately halted and waited for further commands. He was like a damned robot.

“So, if I tell you to jump would you say how high?”

The Commander only stared at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“Probably not.” He took another step, but his shadow remained frozen in his spot. Turning to look over his shoulder he noted the rigid stance, the tight fists, all of which contrasted with that glassy eyed look. What was going through his head? “Listen, I’m not trying to be a dick. I just want you to know, this whole thing is against what I wanted. I just wanted to go to school. Get away from my parents. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just a little rich boy who wants to play in the sandbox for a while with the less fortunate, but at least I see there are less fortunate people and at least I don’t think that a Protectorate will change anything for them.”

Rogers slowly nodded. He remained silent.

Tony released a breath. Scratching at his new beard, he said, “Anyway, sleep out here if that’s what you gotta do to keep the higher ups from burning your ass. Or sleep where ever. I don’t care. Good night.”

He turned and hurried away. He didn’t want to hear what else Rogers had to say. Whatever it was it might hit to close to the heart of the matter – and that was Tony was only changing scenery, wasn’t he? True he was escaping his parents’ oversight, but he committed to a major that would feed the pipeline for Stark and for SHIELD. That’s one of the reasons he was considered a valuable asset. He didn’t matter, he had friends in the military. Rhodey and Carol. They were part of the Air Force and damned if he wouldn’t try and make their jobs easier and safer. There was value to that. 

As he closed and locked the door to his bedroom, Tony had to believe that – but what a strange thing to say. Natasha reported that Rogers had served his country in the Army. Why wouldn’t he be all gun-ho to support Tony in his endeavors. It seemed incongruent – an Army guy all up in Tony’s face about defense and weapons – but on the opposing side. That made no sense at all.

With it only being a little before ten at night, Tony had a lot of time to ruminate on the possibilities. The cover story about Rogers being military was obviously fake. It had to be the worst cover story Tony ever heard. He stripped out of his suit and threw on clean sweats and a t-shirt. After roaming around his room, making sure that he had packed everything he wanted for his move to the East Coast, taking some time on his tablet, and finally resorting to staring at a book, Tony finally cracked the door open and listened.

No sounds. The television wasn’t on. Rogers hadn’t availed himself to TV, games, or music. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe Tony could sneak into his small butler’s pantry and get something to eat. He barely ate anything at the reception, going away party, or whatever it was. He mainly drank his meal and that always rumbled around in his stomach like a lead balloon. 

Deciding that Rogers must be snoring away on the couch, Tony slipped out of his room and headed to the butler’s pantry just off the main living space of the suite. As he walked into the room, he spotted Rogers – standing at the windows staring out at the city. How the hell long had he been standing there? The entire time? Tony spent at least an hour in his room. There were no lights on. Rogers disturbed nothing at all. He just stood with his hands limp at his sides and his shoulders weighed down, his face only centimeters from the glass. Tony was certain that he was probably fogging the glass with his breath.

“Want some popcorn?”

To his credit, Rogers didn’t startle. He only turned and acknowledge Tony with a slight nod of his head. If he smiled, Tony didn’t know – since his face was in shadows against the bright lights of the city.

“Well, we could watch a movie?” Tony offered again. The man felt like an island in the middle of poisoned ocean. “Movie? Popcorn? How could we go wrong?”

Rogers agreed with a short nod. Tony switched on the lights and it mustered that disconcerted reaction that Tony thought Rogers would have had earlier when he first entered the room. The glint in his eyes spoke volumes but Tony strategically ignored it. He cleared his throat and pointed to the big screen television. “You want to pick out a movie. I’ll go get the popcorn.”

Not waiting for a reply, Tony went to the butler’s pantry. He found the bags of popcorn and threw one into the microwave as he dug around for the bowls. He also got two sweet teas to drink and once one bag of popcorn was finished, he threw in a second. After that he poured both into the bowl, tucked the bottled drinks into his arms and walked into the living room. Rogers was standing at the television – the black screen – waiting.

“What are you doing?”

Rogers shrugged and pointed at the television. “I didn’t know what movie you wanted?” It sounded like a question. It was definitely a question. 

“Doesn’t matter.” He pointed to the couch. “Sit down. God, take off your boots and your gloves. Get comfortable.” Tony placed his goodies on the table and then went to the television. He retrieved the remote. “Hey maybe we could binge some episodes of The Expanse. You like science fiction?”

“Like flying cars? Ray guns?”

Ray guns? Who the hell said ray guns? “Yeah, something like that but without the flying cars or the ray guns.”

That twisted up that too perfect face, but Rogers still managed a smile and picked up a piece of popcorn. “Sure. Okay.”

Tony set it up and then dropped down on the couch, probably a little too close to Rogers, but not touching. Rogers didn’t seem to notice. He stared at the screen like it was a marvel.

“You’ll like this show. It’s about Earth in the future after we’ve colonized the solar system.”

“Like landing on the moon.” Rogers smiled as if he was proud of that fact.

“Yep, did that back in ’68. Been a while,” Tony said. “Come on you’ll like this.” He gestured to the sweet tea. “I got you something to drink unless you want something harder?”

“No, iced tea is fine. I think I like it,” Rogers said and reached for the bottle to pop the top. 

_He thinks he likes it?_ What the hell kind of statement is that? Without another word, Tony started the first episode. He warned Rogers, “First few episodes, up to five or six it’s kind of hard to get into. You have to give it time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Probably the naked people having sex in zero gravity was a no go for Rogers, especially since he stood up and walked away from the television for a good ten minutes. Tony asked if he needed a break or if he wanted to watch something else. He didn’t say anything, so Tony let it go. Eventually, Rogers came back and sat down, his shoulders stiff and his hands clasped together.

“You don’t watch a lot of mature content, I take it?”

“Not where I come from,” Rogers said. 

“Where is that?” Tony asked as the show played on in the background.

“Brooklyn.”

Tony barked out laughter. “There’s porn in Brooklyn, bro. Get a life.”

Rogers went still, his face frozen. Eventually he stared at the television, watching the show without comment for the next few hours. Tony made some commentary. It took two more episodes and the clock striking two for Rogers to thaw out.

“It’s an interesting show. I don’t understand what the Belters are saying though. Is that some kind of slang or something?” Rogers asked. “Something I should know?”

“You should know?” Tony screwed up his face. “No, not unless you grew up on Ceres or something. We haven’t colonized the solar system. Like I said this is science fiction.”

Rogers munched on some more popcorn. “It’s interesting.”

It sounded flat out boring the way Rogers proclaimed it interesting. “You need to give it at least a half dozen episodes before you really start understanding it.”

“Okay.” Rogers didn’t complain. He sat watching, though his back never eased out any of the tension and, occasionally, he flexed his hands multiple times. 

“Is it too much?” Tony said after a while. “Too much to watch because of the death and the military, even though it’s fiction and stuff.” Tony had no idea how much action Rogers had seen. Where he’d been and what he’d done.

“Too much? No. I-. It’s been a while since I was in the War.”

The way he said it – War – it gave it gravity, gave it that capital W. Maybe all soldiers who came back from battle, regardless if it was a police action or an actual war used that capital W. While Tony lived his entire life around military types because of the nature of his father’s business, he never really considered the day to day life of the soldier – how they got through the mud of war and how they dealt with it after the fact. 

“It’s hard, huh?” Tony said.

“Hard? Remembering the War?” Rogers thinned his lips and his eyes had that far away sheen they seemed to get a lot in the short time Tony knew him. “Most of it I can remember, but not in big details. You know, it’s a lot of hurry up and wait. You know. But it’s been a long time.” He shrugged. “Been at SHIELD now training for this position.”

In the background the show continued its onward march with the proto-molecule, but Tony blanked out on it, too fascinated by the subject sharing the couch with him. “You trained specifically for this position?”

Rogers flinched a little; it was almost imperceivable and Tony would have missed it had not been studying ever muscle of his face. “Not like you think. I guess. They – SHIELD – started my training as soon as the negotiations with the Stark Protectorate started.” He said it weird like Pro-tec-tor-ate, as if every syllable was a struggle and unfathomable. “As soon as they started, Fury assigned me. I studied everything for months.”

Tony mouthed the word ‘wow’. “I can’t believe it. I’m like not that important.”

“You’d be surprised.” Rogers left it at that and then excused himself to the bathroom. Tony told him where to find the facilities. When he left the room, Tony switched the television show into pause and sat there starting blankly at the screen. 

When Rogers came back, he made a show of pretending his was tired. Three yawns and some stretching. Tony rolled his eyes and gave in. He switched off the entertainment center and told Rogers where he could sleep – not on the couch. Tony had a spare room on his floor in the Tower just in case he asked friends to stay overnight. Generally, that meant Rhodey. 

Rogers thanked him. He went to the room without pause and Tony stood there in the living room in a kind of stunned silence. Before he returned to his own bedroom a ding announced another visitor to his floor and he looked up to see his mother. 

“Mom.”

“Tony, you left the party so early. You didn’t even say anything Obie. He was asking about you.” She tilted her head in that manner that showed a kind of peevish disappointment in him. 

“Sorry. I’ll see him in the morning before I leave. Don’t worry.” He knew she would, that was in her nature. It was also in her nature not to do much about it. She constantly straddled the continents of her husband and her son – never quite brokering a peace between them. 

“Well, come down to the common floor before you leave and have breakfast, won’t you?”  
She smiled. It hurt just to see her grasping for some normalcy in their lives.

“Sure, Mom.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Okay, then. I’ll say goodnight.” His mother turned to leave but he caught her.

“Mom?” When she faced him, she looked young again, like she had in his toddler years. “Why’d Dad hire the bodyguard? For real? Why?”

Her expression crumbled from expectant to sorrow. “Oh dear, dear boy. Don’t you know yet?” 

He shook his head, almost terrified to hear her answer.

“He said it himself tonight. You’re his greatest creation. Howard, never allows his creations to get away from him, not really.”

She left him then with those thoughts swirling in his head. He cursed but he managed to go through the routine of tossing his clothes off and climbing into bed. Nothing she said would dampen his excitement for tomorrow, for going away- getting away, for going to grad school and pursuing his dream. Nothing. He didn’t care if Howard was in cahoots with Fury and they pinned him with some weird ass security guard. It didn’t matter. None of it did. All that matter was that Tony would leave tomorrow and end up in Boston with a fresh new start.

The morning presented nothing fresh or happy about it. Rain sluiced the day and he got up too late to shower. He dressed and went down to the common floor without thinking about his bodyguard only to have Rogers show up seconds later with a grime look on his face and a lecture on the tip of his tongue.

Tony raised his hand to ward off the tirade. “We’re in my family’s home. I don’t need a babysitter. What I need is coffee.”

Rogers said nothing. He wolfed down three eggs and six pieces of toast as well as a bowl of fresh fruit. Jarvis just stared in silent wonder at the man as Tony methodically chewed his single slice of toast. “Jarvis is in love with you.”

Rogers looked up from his breakfast as he got the last crumb of it into his mouth. “Excuse me?” His cheeks brightened to tomato red. He peered down at his empty plate and then to Tony’s which still had a single egg and a slice of toast on it. “I’m sorry. I-.” He stopped. “They said I had a condition?”

“A condition?” Tony wondered if it was a condition called gluttony.

“Yeah?” Rogers played with a smile but it failed. “Director Fury said I had a metabolism condition. Said it’s like I’m too fast with the food or something? I eat more because I need more to keep healthy? I don’t know. The doctors said I was okay.”

“Okay,” Tony said and then shared a look with Jarvis. 

Steve placed his fork by his plate and dropped his hands to his lap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Oh fiddlesticks, you’re not rude boy. You just have a healthy appetite unlike this one who exists entirely on coffee.”

“It’ll stunt your growth,” Rogers said.

Tony coughed up some of the coffee he happened to be sipping. “What?”

Rogers shrugged. “Ma always said it would stunt your growth if you drank too much coffee.”

“Well, obviously you didn’t have that problem,” Tony returned as Jarvis disappeared into the kitchen.

Tony’s mother entered the dining room with a purse in hand and a coat on. “Oh I’m sorry, dear. I have to go. The Foundation – well, the Chair of the Board called a meeting. There’s some issue with the art exhibit over in New York. I have to go. We’re having one of those skype things.”

“Oh,” Tony said and swallowed down his disappointment. How many times would his parents disappoint him before he got used to it and it wouldn’t feel like a spear to his heart. 

“Now, don’t look like a bruised puppy. Steven here is with you. He’s going to be there all the time. To take care of you. Right, Steven?” 

Rogers stood up when she entered the room and then bobbed his head in agreement. “I plan to do my best, ma’am.”

She smiled. “So polite and old fashioned.” She bent down to Tony and kissed his cheek. “Now you have a good flight. Call me when you get settled in your apartment. Tell me if you like everything, okay?”

“Okay, Mom.”

She kissed him again, said she loved him, and hurried out of the room before Tony could even say he loved her back. He watched her go with the words on the tip of his tongue. Rogers glanced at him and Tony only scowled. “What the hell are you looking at?” 

He had the good graces to not answer.

After, Tony with Rogers in tow went to the airport. Tony said his goodbyes to Jarvis before he left and also to Happy as he dropped them off at the airport. Rogers was checking his flip phone as they made their way to the terminal with the Protectorate’s private jet.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to me and not that god awful ancient phone?” 

Rogers snapped the phone shut and pushed it back in his pocket. He had one suitcase. That was it. “I’ve already secured the area. I called ahead. We have security forces on the ground. We’re good.”

“That’s nice, that’s real nice,” Tony muttered. Security forces, what the hell dimension did he walk into?

“You don’t have to like me, you know.”

“Well that’s good, because I don’t think I do like you,” Tony answered but he had to admit he did enjoy the company while binge watching The Expanse last night. 

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Rogers ushered them through security with different identifications and they were shuttled to their terminal with a contingent of airport security. Tony had to admit; the guy knew what he was doing when it came to his duties. With the exception of the cell phone, Rogers navigated the busy airport without a sweat. Usually flying for the Protectorate bogged things down and caused significant delays. With Rogers along and his management skills, things went smoothly, and Tony climbed the stairs to the private jet in no time at all.

Yet with all his skill in tactical planning for airline travel, Rogers still looked like a deer in headlights when it came to any sort of technology outside the realm of weapons and security measures. He fumbled with his phone – which lord in heaven didn’t even have proper texting. When the flight attendant gave him a tablet to select his food choice and drink, he stared at it and flipped it over a few times before he finally gave up and just asked her to select anything. 

It was weird. Strange. Unsettling.

Rogers read books on the plane. Actually books. Not on an app or a kindle. But in paperback - books. A history book at that – something on the Vietnam War. Some fun and light reading. He switched half way through the flight to Native Son. He read it with intensity as if he needed to imbibe it to understand every single nuance. Maybe he was in a class or something? 

Tony slipped out of his seat and went to the back of the plane where there were several lounge chairs in sleeping cabins. He sat down on one of the beds and pulled out his phone. He checked for signal. It took awhile to find the right person but finally he got connected to the SHIELD Protectorate and more specifically the agent, Natasha.

“Glad you called, Stark. We’ll have a debrief when you land, but I did want to check in and see how things were going.”

“How things are going? Can you please have Fury call me? This guy is weird. There’s something wrong with him,” Tony said.

“I’m Commander Rogers handler. You can talk to me about anything. Has he shown aggressive or violent behavior?”

“What?” Tony pulled the phone from his ear and peered down the aisle through to the open cabin to see Rogers still reading his book and drinking a sparkling water – that he obviously didn’t like but wouldn’t tell the Flight Attendant. “No, no. He’s fine. He’s just- why the hell does he have a grandma phone?”

“Grandma phone?”

“A flip phone. Who has those anymore?” Tony asked.

“It’s a tick, an idiosyncrasy. He likes his old phone. Why do you care?” 

“He reads books, real books. He doesn’t like to see naked people doing it in zero gravity. He doesn’t know about space or whether or not we colonized the solar system. It seems weird to me.”

“Maybe he’s Amish,” Natasha replied.

“Amish, what the fuck. You did not send an Amish security guard out to protect me. What the hell is going on? I’ve been around security guards my whole life. My family has a fucking slew of them. What’s so special about this guy?”

Natasha fell silent. Over the low hum of the jet engine he heard her breathing slow and steady over the phone. 

“Well?”

“He’s suffering from an injury.”

“An injury? My father got me a bodyguard with an injury?” That could not be good. What the hell?

“He’s perfectly capable of doing the job. In fact, he’s over qualified. Director Fury just thinks a low stress assignment might be best for him now.”

“I’m a guinea pig.”

“Not exactly,” Natasha said. She waited a few seconds before she added, “Listen, Rogers is a good guy. He wants to do the right thing. He’s still adjusting to civilian life. It’s a good match for you. Fury wasn’t just thinking about Rogers when he made the contract with the Stark Protectorate, he was thinking about you, too.”

What did that even mean? He hated the world of spies. He really did. Almost as much as he hated the geopolitical life of defense contracting. “So, it’s an easy mission for him.”

“Something like that.”

“So, you’re not going to let me talk to Fury,” Tony asked.

“I’m not his admin person. I’m an agent. I am Steve’s handler. If you need anything about him, you go through me.” She gave him her direct number. “Are we good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said. “But – before you go. What’s wrong with him? You said he had an injury, that he’s recovering?”

Tony heard her heavy intact of breath and then release it. Natasha said, “Commander Rogers is suffering from a traumatic brain injury that left him with partial memory loss.”

The words stacked up and built a quick realization in his head. “He’s got amnesia?”

“Partial. He knows some things, but not everything. He might never get it all back. The doctors don’t know. It’s been over six months and he’s only regained minimal memories of his life before.”

“His life before what?”

She paused. “The injury.”

Tony thought of the man sitting on his father’s plane, reading books on history and great literature as if was desperately trying to make up for lost time. “He’s all right? He’s gonna be all right?”

“We hope so.”

“He can do the job?” Tony wasn’t truly asking for himself, more for the Commander. What if Tony had lost his memories, his life. His mind. 

“Yes, like I said he’s perfectly capable. He needs a chance. This is a great chance for him. If he can’t get his memories back, at least he can start to feel needed again, useful. He doesn’t have family or anyone. This is his one chance, Stark. Don’t blow it for him.”

She talked as if she knew him for ages, as if she studied Tony and understood how he operated. He didn’t find it flattering, just kind of creepy in a way. 

“I’m not a babysitter.”

“Neither is he,” Natasha said. “Now I have to go. We’ll meet you when you land. Commander Rogers has already arranged your transportation to your apartment.”

Tony sat in the dark of the jet’s sleeping cabin and said, “Yeah, okay.” It was fine really. “Does my dad know?”

“He knows that Commander Rogers is a decorated war veteran who retired due to his injury. Does he know what the nature of the injury was, no. That’s confidential-.”

“You just told me.”

“Need to know,” Natasha supplied. “You’re in good hands, Tony. We wouldn’t put you in jeopardy.”

“Well, that’s good because I might need someone to take notes when I skip classes.”

Natasha scoffed. “You need to understand a little more about the world, Stark. You’ve lived your whole like under the security of the Protectorate – one of the most powerful ones in the world. Venturing out to areas that aren’t under that umbrella puts you at risk. You might not want to believe it, but SHIELD and Stark Protectorates aren’t the only ones interested in your welfare. Human commodities are just as important as material ones these days.”

“Okay, okay. If you say so,” Tony said. 

“Stark, Tony, just let him do his job. It will be the best thing for you and the best thing for him.” Natasha closed the line then and Tony stared at his dark phone for long minutes before he forced himself back onto his feet to go to the main cabin.

Rogers glanced up at him from his book. His expression unguarded he looked young, untested, but then the guards came down and his face closed down. Injury. Brain injury. How horrible would it be to live life in a partial cloud at all times, not knowing who you were or what happened in your life?

Who was Commander Rogers? A SHIELD operative. Tony knew that, but the real question was who was Captain Steve Rogers?


	2. Living Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony arrives at MIT. Things happen. It's fun. It's grad school. It's dystopia! What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the great response to the first chapter. I am still going through an answering comments. But thank you so much!! :)

The Audi E-Tron GT might have only been a concept automobile back in his father’s day, but in 2045 too many other cars left it behind in their wake. The idea that Howard authorized the Commander to purchase a car for use in Boston was both infuriating and befuddling. Howard appreciated cars, much like Tony did. The fact that they ended up with an old-fashioned car that was both supped up and behind the times exacerbated the issue. Tony glared at Rogers as he loaded the trunk with the suitcases. Tony didn’t have much, considering most of his belongings had been shipped out and placed in the apartment a few weeks before his arrival date. In fact, the apartment was supposed to be up and running. But seeing the crap car they had, Tony could only imagine the apartment his father authorized.

When Rogers slammed the trunk down and spotted Tony’s disgusted expression, he did a double take and said, “What?”

“Really? You don’t know?” Tony pointed to the car. Maybe the guy had no idea that the E-Tron was decades behind the more fashionable A.I. driven cars. He did have amnesia, but Natasha had assured him that Rogers functioned pretty well in day to day matters.

“The car?” Rogers furrowed his brows and stared at it like he waited for it to spring into some kind of fire breathing dragon. He twisted around and studied Tony but said nothing and headed to the passenger side door. He opened it. “If you please?”

“I don’t please.” What was with this guy? Tony calmed his nerves. What was with his father assigning him a bodyguard without a memory. He marched to the front passenger seat and opened the door, blatantly disregarding the backseat door that Rogers had opened. He got into the old timey car and slammed the door shut. His whole graduate school experience was going to rot in Hell.

Rogers said nothing to Tony’s little act of defiance. He simply shut the door, went to the driver’s side, and with a lot more grace than Tony had, slid behind the steering wheel. 

Most cars in the Protectorates drove with A.I.’s on computer enhanced roads – roads that his father was more than happy to explain in detail had to be rebuilt from the earth up.

“You don’t get it, Tony,” Howard had said. “When I was your age, the infrastructure of the United States was falling apart. There wasn’t any money to fix it. The United States was trillions of dollars in debt with other nations. Sinking money into a public works project like FDR did back in the Great Depression just wasn’t feasible.”

“It would have been if they’d taxed the rich.”

“What do you call rich, do you even know?”

Tony stayed quiet.

“That’s because no one knows what rich is, or what poor is. It depends on so many economic and demographic variables that I can’t hand pick a number-.”

“I know that. _Dad_.” Tony sneered. “Everyone knows that. But the fact of the matter was the United States got itself into the mess, it should have been able to climb its way out. Go back to the 70s and fix what it derailed in the 80s.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Howard had said and shook his head. “Power breeds contempt of those without power because they drain the system, son. And the system flows upwards always. It doesn’t matter what system you use; the system flows upwards.”

Tony had let it drop then; he knew in some uncomfortable way that he basked in the blur of wealth. Wealth softened the lines and cracks of the world; help build shields that bled away the pain of others. Obie had even said it once – Tony was no revolutionary. Tony was a wealthy boy of a powerful man. He would never lay down that wealth and prestige to live amongst the rats. 

Going to Boston and living on his own might have been Tony’s first act but it sure didn’t feel that way. Plus, he realized that with his little tantrum about the age of the car, he played right into his father’s and Obie’s hands. He considered Rogers as he pulled the Audi out of the parking spot at Boston Logan Airport.

“How’d you know the car would be here?” Tony asked. He still closed Rogers off, kept his distance in his body language (arms crossed over his chest) and his tone (sneering tainted with aloofness – Tony did that well).

“Arranged for it. Your father asked what car I would like to have to escort you around Boston. Since most of Boston’s streets aren’t smart streets like ones in the Protectorate, I opted for something a little more traditional.” Steve followed the lines to exit the garage, scanned his retina for payment, and then navigated the car out into traffic. 

“Really?” Tony was sure that Open Class areas like Boston had advancements like A.I. cars and smart streets. “No smart streets?”

“Some of them, but since Boston never got a Protectorate most of the infrastructure modifications are layered on top of the previous versions,” Rogers said and then shrugged. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve been driving on even older streets forever.” He added a little _it seems_ muttered under his breath.

“Forever?” Tony turned back to the crowded streets. The traffic was terrific and noisy and congested. They didn’t have that in Protectorates – not anymore. Cars traveled at paces and on streets in almost a dance guided by the computer grid. “This all seems a little ancient to me.”

Rogers smirked. “Seems a little more familiar to me.”

“Yeah?” Tony said. Well, now they were getting somewhere. This little project dumped in Tony’s lap offered a dozy of opportunities. “You grow up without a Protectorate?” That didn’t seem right, he’d said he was from Brooklyn. 

“Near as I can recall,” he replied and didn’t elaborate. 

Tony wondered if Rogers was supposed to keep it a secret that he was missing chunks of his life. “So, long time, then. You been driving a lot?”

“Yeah, well, since the War.”

There was that pronouncement again. He said war like it was the only war ever fought. “So you fought in the war?” Since Tony had no idea what war they were talking about – was in the Middle East? South America? Indian-Pakistani War? 

“Yeah,” Rogers said but again kept the rest to himself. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. Nothing else – maybe he didn’t even know. How would that be to not know what war you had been in, what people you went and killed? It creeped Tony out a little.

“Nice,” Tony commented and then fell silent. 

What Tony learned the first few hours after they left Logan airport was that the Commander drove like a maniac. While most drivers in the city maneuvered with hesitant skill Rogers swerved and wove through the knots of traffic like a pro race car driver. The other drivers leaned heavily on their cars’ sensors and A.I. guidance because even though the streets might not be smart streets, the fact of the matter was that most cars contained enough A.I. know how to get the driver and occupants from point A to point B without too much human interference. 

Not for them though. Commander Rogers used the stick shift like he commanded a battle brigade. The car responded, a tiger wanting to leap and attack. It took over an hour, even though Logan Airport was situated east of the city. Getting across the river and over toward the campus dragged out the car ride. The silence pressed down on Tony like a weight on his chest.

“So, you going to stay with me?”

“That’s the plan,” Rogers said. “Your mother purchased a nice flat on Mt. Auburn near Harvard. It’s a hike away from the MIT campus but it’s a good area and pretty spacious.”

“So, you’ve seen it already?”

“Yes, there are two bedroom, two baths.” 

“Great,” Tony responded. This stick in the mud with no memory went house shopping with his mom and decided where Tony would live and what kind of place he would live in. Just fucking perfect. “You got a lot of experience in real estate?”

Rogers cracked a smile – maybe the first genuine one Tony saw on him. “No, not really. I lived in a tenement most of my life until I joined up.”

Well, he remembered something, Tony frowned. “Tenement? Isn’t that old-fashioned lingo? Like when were you born? The nineteen thirties?”

“No. Nineteen eightee-.” He stopped. He made a slight choking noise as if the words had been programmed into his brain, but the programming didn’t allow him to share the information. 

“Nineteen eighteen? Really? You were not born in the 20th century. That would make you, what? Like a hundred and twenty-seven. You look like you’re maybe twenty-three or -.”

“Twenty-five,” Rogers said. His hands tightened on the steering wheel again. He kept his eyes on the road ahead of them. “I’m twenty-five.” He stated it like he was trying to convince himself. 

“Are you sure?”

Rogers nodded but it reminded Tony of a robot. Maybe he was some kind of robot. Robotics and artificial intelligence had progressed in leaps and bounds. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were life like robots roaming around the streets. Now, that was a possibility. Maybe the whole he’s lost his memory gig was a lie. Natasha what’s her name was an agent of an organization that made lying a work of art. A robot. That sounded about right.

“So, do you eat?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied the Commander.

“Eat?” Rogers spared him a glance and then went back to weaving the car through jammed traffic.

“Yeah, like cheeseburgers, hot dogs. You know, ice cream?”

“I used to like to get cracker jack at Coney Island.” Rogers gave a little smile as if the memory – or fake programmed memory – brought him back to the good ol’days. What good ol’days did robots have?

“Well, I think we should stop and eat. I’m hungry,” Tony said and waited for the robot to make excuses.

Instead Rogers agreed. “We could stop after we drop off the luggage, get settled, and then go out for something. You said cheeseburgers?”

Well, his willingness to eat blew out all of Tony’s interest. He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Rogers voiced no opinion but continued to the loft apartment in the Riverside area of Boston. Tony couldn’t believe his mother didn’t secure a place in Back Bay or maybe The Port area of the city – at least he would have been closer and could have walked to class with the latter. Considering the facts, Tony was fairly certain his mother did it on purpose so that Tony would need to get transportation back and forth to school, thus ensuring the attendance of the bodyguard since Tony didn’t have a license. Most people from Protectorates didn’t have one.

By the time they arrived at the five-story red brick building, Tony admitted he wanted that cheeseburger but at the same time he scowled at the neighborhood he found himself in. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, in fact there were nice houses lining the streets. Small postage stamp sized lawns well maintained accented said houses. It had a very family atmosphere. Tony hated it. He wanted the university atmosphere, he wanted young adults and their culture, he wanted to learn about cities like Boston – Open Class without Protectorates providing the advancements. He didn’t want to watch kids playing ball in the streets or whatever they did in the city. 

Rogers pulled the car into the underground garage and went to an assigned, paid for parking spot. Tony’s parents must have spent an arm and a leg on the spot since it was the first one next to the elevator with the exception of the handicap space. Rogers announced they were _here_ like Tony couldn’t figure that tidbit out himself and then got out of the car. Tony sat there, unmoving for a good five minutes. Rogers eventually knocked on the window until Tony rolled it down.

“Yeah?”

“We’re here.” He had their luggage in his hands, waiting for Tony.

“I got that in one.”

“Well?” 

“Fuck,” Tony cursed and then said, “How is this my life?”

Rogers apparently had no answer to that because he only stepped out of the way as Tony exited the car. Tony scowled at him, but also dutifully went to the elevator vestibule.

“You and my mom have a good time picking out my apartment. Making sure it’s in a safe little part of town where there aren’t any decent parties or subversive culture that could influence me.” Tony waved his hand over the button for the elevator, but nothing happened. Rogers rolled his eyes and pushed the button; the light came on.

“Quaint.”

Rogers pressed a tight smile across his lips. 

“Does your ass get chafed?”

Rogers stared at him; brows close together. “What?”

“All that pent-up tension, figured your ass might get chafed from just the strain.” Tony walked onto the elevator before Rogers could check it out for _threats_. He grimaced at Tony but followed him into the lift. 

“You can’t do that. You have to let me check.”

“Are you going to check the fucking stalls in the restrooms when I need to take a piss on campus?” Tony asked. He gazed at the man’s perfect skin. Maybe it was too perfect maybe he was a Life Model Decoy or something equally as disturbing. 

“If I have to. My job is to keep you safe, whether or not you think that’s a joke, I take it seriously.” 

Tony guffawed. He couldn’t help it; the man was so fucking earnest and honest. It hurt. The blush of red to his cheeks and the way he looked to the side and down sent a spear of shame into Tony, so hot and uncomfortable that he felt the red blossom on his cheeks as well. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Rogers turned away, hit the floor, and then said, “Yes you did. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to protect you. That’s the job and that’s what I intend to do.”

Tony bit back any reply. He had to admit; a respond died on the vine. It withered away. Tony glanced up at Rogers. His profile sent a little thrill through Tony. He could most definitely imagine touching that pale skin, those full lips. His nose with the slight impression that it wasn’t quite perfect made Rogers’ profile all that more enticing and interesting. Alluring. That’s what Tony would call it. He imagined kissing those lips, how Rogers eyes would slowly flutter to close -.

Nope. Not going to go all hot and horny. Tony admonished himself. Just minutes ago, he was sure that the Commander was a robot. Right now, Tony really didn’t want to fuck a robot. Of course, it would be interesting – like a professional academic endeavor if he did want to explore that idea. For all scientific investigations, certain factors needed to be taken into account. Control and experimental condition. Controlling for fucking a robot presented a new scenario of problems. Did he make sure that a person had the same dimensions, girth, responses? Or should it be something more spontaneous?

A throat being cleared broke Tony out of his evaluation and experimental design thought processes. Rogers stood there, at the entrance to the elevator waiting for Tony to exit. He hung back, staring at the Commander for way too long for it to be comfortable. Finally, he moved his feet. His face burned as if the Commander read his thoughts. 

Without blinking an eye (because robots don’t need to blink), Rogers gestured to the hallway and escorted Tony to the corner apartment. It should have been great – it should have been fantastic. 

And it was. The loft apartment was on the top floor with the only outdoor space for the entire building. Yet when he walked into the apartment Tony hated it. Instantly. The exposed brick in the open concept space that was the kitchen and living room combined should have set his heart sailing. The gigantic monitor mounted to the wall served as his interface to entertainment, A.I., and virtual world connection. He spotted the wiring, exposed and flagrant to make it hip and edgy along the ceiling, for the A.I. and the rest. Most would be wireless of course, but there existed hardwiring as a backup and as a vehicle for his father’s tireless need to keep tabs on his son. Everything about the apartment rang bells of great, in vogue, but also everything a graduate student couldn’t afford. 

It served as a dream for others, but it just separated him from everyone else. 

“There are two bedrooms,” Rogers said. He pointed to the one that shared the wall with the walk out to the outdoor space. “I figured you’d like to have the one with access to the balcony. Your mother set it up that way. I’ll take the one with the inside wall.” 

Tony spied it behind the kitchen. It was small, not terribly, but still much smaller than the master. It also only had one window that looked out onto the alley. Tony grumbled and threw himself onto the couch – leather of course. “God this isn’t what I wanted at all!”

Rogers stood there for a second staring at Tony, probably aghast at his ungrateful attitude. 

“Are you a fucking robot? What is wrong with you?” Tony shouted at him. He regretted it. He knew he shouldn’t, but he just wanted to be free of his parents overriding embrace.

“I’ll just put my suitcase in the room,” Rogers said. His voice never wavered. He was here to protect Tony and if that meant he had to take Tony’s berating attitude he would. Tony even hated that.

Once he returned to the living room, Rogers asked, “Do you want to check out the master or the balcony. You have a grill.”

“Of course, I have a fucking grill. Why wouldn’t I have a fucking grill?” Tony sank further into the cushion of the couch. He threw an arm over his face.

Rogers stood there, probably computing the data of an eighteen-year-old about to have a nervous breakdown because his parents were dicks. After an agonizing five minutes, Tony peered through his fingers and said, “Are you just going to stand there?”

“I thought you might like to get something to eat.”

“That’s what you have to say when I’m having an existential crisis?”

“Existential like Sarte and Kierkegaard?” Rogers blurted out the names like he was calling out orders at a diner.

Tony sat up. “Yeah, like that only worse.”

“I’m not sure what that means but if you want to talk about it – I’ve been reading a lot about what happened after World War II and the rise of secularism. You know the whole God is dead thing that Nietzsche wrote about which is weird since he was a Lutheran clergyman. But I suppose everyone can lose their faith.” Rogers shrugged his shoulders. “I could get one of my books, if you want.” He seemed so damned eager like a golden retriever puppy in some ways, but also so powerful with a voice that just commanded the room. 

“Yeah, hmm. No don’t get the books. Let’s go get something to eat,” Tony said. He got to his feet and felt a little numb all over. “You read a lot?”

“Hmm, I have to,” Rogers said but stopped at that.

“You go to college?” Tony said as they left the apartment.

“No,” Rogers said and then screwed up his face. “I had a few classes in art before the War. But nothing like a real education. I couldn’t afford it.”

“Well, let me buy you dinner.” The Commander actually smiled, and it brought to light his youth. Though Tony noticed a sadness to that youth like the long days of summer in August when school beckoned and the warmth still lingered but whispered its spent days gone by. “Yeah, dinner.”

They found a little café that had outdoor seating and Tony took to it like a moth to the flame. Rogers wanted to sit inside – since it was more secure, and Tony had to practically beg the guy. He conceded and they got a seat so that Tony could see enough of the street but was near the back of the veranda while Rogers angled himself to block the open area. 

“You do know that no one is actually out to get me, right?” Tony asked.

Rogers smiled as he sipped his water. “I just want to do my job right.”

“I get it but-.” Tony stopped and considered. Should he really say anything to him? “You know this is a crap assignment.”

Rogers chewed though he had nothing in his mouth. His jaw muscle twitched, and he shifted his gaze away and then back to Tony. “Natasha told you, right?”

Tony feigned innocence with a hand to his chest. “What? No. I don’t know what you’re talking about? Tell me, what? That you’re a god damned beautiful man? She didn’t need to tell me that, I can see that all on my own.”

For his part, Rogers stayed stone cold, though the color rose to his cheeks. He cleared his throat to speak but then the waiter came to their table. He announced the specials and took their drink orders. Tony wanted a beer, but they refused, and he ordered a soda instead. Rogers took one as well, though Tony urged him to get a real drink.

“No, I don’t like it,” Rogers said.

Tony stopped short of pressing the point. Maybe his traumatic brain injury precluded him from drinking alcohol? Like what did Tony know about these things. Moving on, Tony ordered a cheeseburger and fries while Rogers ordered the same but with a side salad and soup. It was too hot for soup, but Tony kept his mouth shut.

When the waiter left them, Rogers looked away once again and then back to Tony. His expression firm but blank. “I was injured during the War. I have some gaps – in my memory. I’m sure that Natasha told you. I also have something the doctors’ said might be related to it. Some dissociation with events? I’m not sure how they put it. They said they hadn’t seen a case – that they were actually on new ground. My dissociation makes the amnesia worse.”

“But you remember like stuff. Like Kierkegaard and other stuff?” Tony played with his paper napkin, rolling and unrolling it. 

Rogers watched Tony’s fingers as they worked. “Some stuff. But a lot of the stuff I remember doesn’t make sense.” The muscle worked in his jaw again. “Nothing I can do about it. Like they say keep calm and soldier on.”

Tony crumpled up the napkin. “Who the hell says that?” He shook his head. “Listen, you are out of the army now. You gotta break free from that crap. You want to know why I traveled three thousand miles away from my home – so I could break free from the Protectorate and my parents. I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed freedom. So do you. That would probably do you a world of good if you broke free from their reins and spent some time finding yourself.” 

For a minute Tony thought the man might be having a seizure as his face contorted but then he realized that Rogers was just trying and failing to stifle laughter. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked up at Tony as he allowed his hand to fall free on his lap. “You really think that little speech is going to convince me to leave my post? Find myself? I don’t have any family. I don’t have any friends. There’s nothing to find. According to the information they gave me, there’s no one left for me to connect with. There’s no one left to find.”

“Jesus,” Tony muttered under his breath. He leaned forward and asked, “Do you believe them? The SHIELD Protectorate is filled with spies and assassins. How did you get there? When did you leave the army? Why did you end up with the Protectorate when you seem to think you weren’t part of it before even though you say you came from Brooklyn?”

Even Tony felt a rush of fear as he stated the facts for Rogers. The Commander didn’t answer immediately and once again he was saved by the waiter arriving with their drinks and their meal. Rogers dug right into the salad, cleaning the plate in record time. Tony seriously thought the man might have worms or something the way he ate. He ignored Tony as he went for the soup and focused on eating. The way he consumed food fascinated Tony, and he nearly forgot his own cheeseburger until Rogers finished the soup and started on his burger and fries. 

Pointing to Tony’s dish, Rogers said as he bit a fry. “Eat.”

“I didn’t mean it. I don’t want you to just leave.” God, nothing could be further from the truth, but the single-minded eating freaked out Tony. He wanted to make it right, whatever way he could. 

Rogers finished; swallowed down his fries and then said, “Yeah you do. I get it. I really do. But I’m not leaving. I want you to be safe, Tony. Regardless of what you think, someone with your power and prestige in the world today is vulnerable. My job is to protect you.”

The food turned heavy in his mouth and he put down his burger. “You’re serious.”

“Absolutely. I did the risk assessment myself.”

Tony picked up his rumpled napkin and wiped at his lips. “What? A risk assessment?”

Rogers nodded. “Yes. Your father is a leader of one of the biggest Protectorates in the country. Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t assign a number of bodyguards. I asked Nick Fury to consider more than just me.”

“And what did he say?” Tony said and scanned the area. They were in the open, outside. Vulnerable.

“He said he was assigning the greatest soldier that the world has ever known to you as your bodyguard and that was more than enough.”

“He knows how to flatter,” Tony said but the joke fell flat. 

Rogers lifted a shoulder and in that small gesture, Tony glimpsed his vulnerability. He saw the fear in the soldier, the man that he might not be enough, that even with all the muscles and physique he might fail. Tony looked away and told himself not to be gullible. The man in front of him was just another Jarhead regardless of whether or not he was in the Marines or the Army. It didn’t matter. 

“Well, Fury has his reasons and I have mine. I’m going to do the best job possible and nothing will happen to you, Tony. I promise you that. It’s what I’m here for as they say 24/7.”

Twenty-four seven meant that Tony never escaped being babysat. “So you don’t have any hobbies? Nothing else you want to do?”

Rogers picked at his fries. “I’ll work out some. Maybe go to the gym if I can squeeze it in and I can make sure you’ll be safe while I’m away. Unless.” He looked up from his plate. “Unless you want to go with me? We could go when you’re free?”

“You’d want me to come with you? To work out?” Tony found the notion slightly intriguing – like what would that be? How would it work out?

“Sure. It would be fun. Have you ever worked out? I know a lot of people don’t like it, but the intensity of it can help clear your mind.” 

There was that look again, that enthusiastic, hopeful look. Tony didn’t know if he should encourage it. What if Rogers got the wrong idea? That they were friends or something? But the facts had been set on the table, that Rogers did a risk assessment and he’d taken on the job to protect Tony because of the results.

“If you let me look at your risk assessment,” Tony said. There was always more than one way to skin a cat (which is one helluva terrible saying). 

“I could,” Rogers said. “But only if you let me walk you through it. It can get a little-.” He failed to find the right word so Tony winked at him.

“Intense?” 

“Yeah, something like that,” Rogers agreed. 

They finished up their meal and headed back to the apartment. Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets but noticed that Rogers kept his out and his eyes alert, watchful. “So do you have a gun or something?”

Rogers frowned. “No. I don’t really like to use one.”

“Then how are you going to get the bad guys?” Tony crossed the street with Rogers only a step behind him.

As they made the curb and started down the street, Rogers tapped his temple. “Most of defense is knowing your enemy and outsmarting them so you never have to resort to violence.”

“That sounds particularly opened minded for someone part of a Protectorate known to be a little on the murky side. How’d you decide to join up with them, after the Army and all?” Tony waited as Rogers used his thumb to open the outer door of the apartment building. A light flashed over them, scanning them, and then allowed them entrance.

“I don’t really know,” Rogers said. “All I know is I was in the Army and then I was with SHIELD.” He rotated his shoulders as if his jacket was too tight. “They took care of me while I was recovering.”

“From the TBI?” Tony waited for Rogers to check the elevator and then they entered it to go up to the fifth floor. 

“Yeah,” Rogers said and there was the slightest addition – as if he’d said _I think?_

“You know, if you want I can look some stuff up? I’m pretty good with hacking into things. Seriously, SHIELD would be a piece of cake.” 

They left the elevator and walked down the hallway toward Tony’s apartment when the door at the other end of the hall opened. A tall, strikingly beautiful bald, but tattooed woman stepped out of the apartment with a young man behind her. The woman immediately went into a defensive stance as Rogers stepped in front of Tony. 

“Okoye, what has happened to our manners? This is our newest neighbor.” The young man moved to get around the woman, but she blocked him.

“State your purpose,” Okoye commanded, her hand on a short baton. 

“I’m just here to go-.” 

Rogers held up his hand to stop Tony. “Mister Stark lives here. Would you state your purpose?”

Before Okoye responded, the young man smiled and said, “Tony Stark! I have heard of you many times, many times. My younger sister, Shuri, has spoken about you. You are well known in Wakanda for good or bad.” He snickered a little but crossed the distance between them to offer his hand. Both Okoye and Rogers tried to stop the meeting. 

“Our Ancestors weep for you, Okoye. I am T’Challa-.”

“Wakanda? Really?” Tony nearly hopped out of his skin. “I heard about Wakanda.” He hit Rogers shoulder. “Didn’t you? Wakanda’s been closed for centuries, but it recently opened up to the rest of the world and wow, talk about all kinds of advancements.” Tony ignored both Okoye’s and Rogers’ protests. “I have got to learn more about those bead bracelets. How the hell do they work? Your advancements in nanotechnology are worlds beyond anything the States has.”

“That is all my sister, I am afraid,” T’Challa replied. “I am only here to study international law and politics at your Harvard University.”

“I’m going to MIT. Graduate school engineering and the like,” Tony said. “You live here?”

“Many of the Harvard students do.”

“Nice,” Tony said and then thumbed over his shoulder. “You wanna come in and maybe grill something?” Rogers furrowed his brow and opened his mouth, but Tony stopped him. “We got burgers, don’t we?”

“Fully stocked?” Rogers said and twisted up his mouth like he tasted something sour. 

“Fully stocked. Come on let me buy you dinner?” Tony said and soon, T’Challa agreed. Both Okoye and Rogers glared at Tony, but he managed to disregard them completely.

With the retinal scan, Tony and Rogers opened the doors and allowed their guests entrance. Rogers still looked like he swallowed barbs, but kept his mouth shut. Tony invited T’Challa to sit in the living room. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” Tony went to the refrigerator and opened the freezer side to search for burgers. The smart freezer indicated where to find them – on what shelf. “I suppose that your friend here is part of the Dora Milaje.” Tony grinned.

“Yes, Okoye is a General in the Dora Milaje. One of our best, my father insisted. He said America was filled with thieves and assorted untrustworthy people. Criminals.” T’Challa sat on the couch with an air of relaxation that wasn’t apparent in either of the bodyguards.

Tony gestured to the balcony. “Wanna get the grill going, Commander?”

Rogers probably choked on his tongue as he visibly fought back the reprimand. He nodded curtly and went to the sliding glass door. “Are you sure, _sir_? We just ate.” 

Seems even the good Commander could throw a few ninja stars at Tony to ruin his evening. “Yes, I didn’t like my burger. And we have company, Commander. Didn’t your mother ever teach you anything?”

A look of shame washed over Rogers’ face and he ducked out onto the balcony to start the grill.

“You have the balcony. Nice,” T’Challa said and stood up to peer out onto the concrete paved space with its bricked balustrade. “Okoye wouldn’t allow it. No balcony for the crown prince.”

Okoye hissed at T’Challa and side eyed Tony. He smiled at her. “Don’t worry I already knew he was the prince. Everyone who knows anything knows that. Though probably not my bodyguard. He reads the classics and has a flip phone.”

T’Challa found that little detail amusing. “We have not used cellular phones for ages in Wakanda.”

Tony tossed the package of frozen burgers on the island that separate the kitchen space from the living area. “Really? What tech do you use?”

Down the rabbit hole, Tony went. He forgot about the burgers and just about everything else. Slowly, Tony ended up on the chair opposite T’Challa as they compared notes on the evolving nanotechnology and how it would revolutionize the world. Tony didn’t even realize it, but Rogers ended up grilling the burgers and serving them drinks as they discussed the wonders of Wakanda technology. Okoye and Rogers stood to the side, neither engaged the other and, in some ways, it felt like they had stone statues watching their every move. 

Because Tony had already eaten, he barely touched his burger and fries that Rogers placed in front of him. He snacked a little on the fries and tasted some of the fresh fruit that also appeared. The conversation engrossed him, and, at one point, he waved to Rogers.

“Hey, you want to go do that work out now, you can. T’Challa’s got his security here and unless I threaten him, I think we’re good,” Tony said with a grin. 

Okoye snapped the small rod in her hand, and it turned into a large staff weapon which startled everyone in the room but T’Challa. He waved her to settle. “We are becoming friends, Okoye. I think it is time we accept that Wakanda is part of the world.”

“We can be part of the world, but I will always defend Wakanda to the last.”

T’Challa shared a look with Tony but didn’t break into a smile. “If you would like Commander, I can ensure the safety of your charge while you take refreshments and a break for your work out?”

Rogers looked amongst them, obviously at a loss of what to do. Eventually, he made a short shake of his head and stayed firmly in place. Part of Tony liked the idea that Rogers remained. It showed he took his job seriously. Also, Okoye freaked Tony out – just a little bit. 

By the end of the night, Tony admitted he was half happy to be in the building. He might not be amongst the MIT students, but at least he would be meeting people his age and his mother didn’t confine him to a retirement home. Tony waved goodbye to his neighbors with a plan to get together again by the weekend. He closed the door and turned around to find a red faced Commander standing right behind him.

“Do you know what you did? Do you have any idea?”

“What?” Tony pushed past Rogers. “Since you’re supposed to be the greatest soldier who ever lived, and you are part of the SHIELD Protectorate I figured that every single occupant of this apartment was vetted and checked before _you_ and my mother got the place. Don’t tell me you didn’t, because if I read you right, Rogers, you did.”

Rogers deflated a degree, but his hackles were still raised, and he ground his teeth before he said, “You clear it with me.”

“That’s not how this is going to work, Rogers. I have free will. I am not a prisoner. I am going to graduate school. Tomorrow when I go to pick up my stuff and go to classes what are you going to do? Hundreds of students will be on campus. How are you going to deal with that?” Tony poked his finger into the air at Rogers. “How, Rogers? How?”

Rogers went stiff and that muscle on his jaw jerked as he worked his tongue under his cheek. Eventually he stopped and said, “Steve. My name is Steve.” He went to the door, double checked the lock, then went to the sliding doors and engaged the locking mechanism which was much more advanced that a simple switch lock and bar. After, he turned to Tony and said, “I set the locks, that means you can’t leave without my knowing it. It will alert me. I’m going to bed. Good night, sir.” He gave a slight bow and stormed off to his bedroom.

That last word _sir_ struck a chord. Howard always insisted the staff call him sir and it never set right in Tony’s bones. Tony watched Rogers – no, Steve – leave and then marched off to his own bedroom. He wasn’t sure if his anger stemmed from Steve or himself. He threw himself on the too big bed and stared at the arched ceiling. What a load of crap. Here he was trying to be independent and he had an ace class babysitter – with amnesia. It would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. He fell asleep like that drifting between being resentful and being somewhat sympathetic to the man in the next room. 

During the middle of the night he got up, used the facilities, and then peered out of his room when he heard quiet sounds of someone huffing. In the living space, Rog- Steve had moved the chairs and table and was silently doing push-ups. As Tony observed he heard the count.

“One twenty, one twenty-one, one twenty-two…” 

Steve wore a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that showed off his muscular arms and chest. Tony found himself licking his lips as the moonlight through the glass of the sliding door shone on the glistening sweat of his bodyguard. He continued his exercising and Tony closed the door. When he went back to bed, he pulled his tablet out of the suitcase and laid in on the bed. With a tap, the holographic display appeared and then he tossed it up high to hang over the bed.

The building wasn’t bad. His bodyguard wasn’t a beast. Tony knew he could have gotten much worse from SHIELD. Actually, he should celebrate, but he had this cold icy feeling inside and he hated it. He needed more information and one thing that Tony was good at - getting that information from whatever source existed. He flashed through several streams of data, tossing out avenues of information until he found only the SHIELD Protectorate walls in the way. It would take several days or even weeks to hack through it. It was sophisticated to say the least. 

“Let’s find out some other shit then,” Tony said. He needed to write program to hack SHIELD and he’d start that in the morning. 

What he did was search for terms that seemed specific to Steve Rogers. Like his name and that only brought up old footage of the legendary Captain America. When Tony was a kid he loved the old movies and even some of the rebooted movies starring that guy, Evans. But after an age, Captain America fell out of fashion which mirrored the rise of the Protectorates. Tony still felt a little sad about that, Captain America had been his childhood hero even if his father scowled at his fascination with the war hero. Tony checked out the ancient footage of the real Captain America. Most of it wasn’t well preserved and what still survived has a grainy almost pixelated texture to it.

“Can we clean this up a little?” He asked the AI in his tablet. It recognized his voice and started the software to enhance the images. 

Nothing more was coming up related to Steve Rogers. But that begged the question why would Fury consider his Steve Rogers to be the greatest soldier who ever lived. That made little sense. His search sank as he went through information on SHIELD and Fury which led him to weird off shoots of people called invaders or some such. None of it parsed well together and he got more irritated as he searched. A rapping on his door stopped him. 

“Put her to bed,” Tony told the tablet and the data he’d been studying all but disappeared only leaving the image of the current movie he’d been watching on the flight over hanging above his bed. He sighed when the knock came again. “Yes?”

Rogers – no, Steve – cracked the door open. “I just wanted to check with you. What time do you want to be on campus?”

“My first class isn’t until eleven, so how about nine. I have some Protectorate registration documents to finalize. They want me to be there in person.” 

“Okay,” Steve said and ducked out of the room.

“Rog-Steve?” 

Steve re-appeared. His hair was plastered to his face as if he’d been sweating a lot with his workout. “Yeah?”

“You want to watch a movie? It’s interactive,” Tony said and gestured to the figures above his bed.

Steve looked at it and something akin to melancholy swept over his features. He shook his head. “Nah. Don’t much like the new stuff anyway.”

“Maybe another time,” Tony said.

Steve nodded and, as he shut the door, said, “Good night.”

“Night.” Tony looked at the clock. It was well past two in the morning. Time to give it up and go to bed. He rested back into the bed’s cushions. He hadn’t even really explored his room yet. The illuminated images above his head gave the room an ethereal glow. It was large – Steve wasn’t joking about that at all. The bed must have been a king and to the side where the sliding door accessed the balcony, a couch and a side chair sat. A door on the other side of the bed led to the bathroom which was a good size but not large. There was no bathtub, just a walk-in shower. Tony had spotted the upgrades in the décor almost immediately upon entering the bath. His mother’s touch – which he was appreciative of, but still he would have liked to be part of the process. As he gazed into the darkness, his eyes grew heavy again and he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up the frozen images hanging above him from the tablet startled him and he yelped in surprise. Just as quickly, the door to his room flew open and Steve leapt in searching for an assailant. Tony put his hands up.

“Sorry, just startled myself.”

Steve nodded. He was already dressed in his uniform with the except of his gloves and boots. “I made breakfast. Eggs and toast. Some fruit on the side.”

“Coffee?” Tony asked and felt like he needed to crawl out of bed. He flopped and then managed to sit up.

“Coffee is ready, too.” Steve cleared his throat. “It’s eight. You might want to hurry up if you want to get to campus by nine.”

It turned out that they got to campus at 9:36, which wasn’t bad considering the hell of traffic and Tony’s lackadaisical understanding of time – Steve’s words not Tony’s. It amused Tony to no end to watch the Commander grow more and more anxious as Tony dragged his feet to get ready, as he meandered around the apartment looking for his supplies for the day, and how he wanted to stop for more coffee on the trip to campus.

“You can’t be doing this,” Steve said. “You’re going to be late. We have to get to the Protectorate admin building before the crowds do.”

“That boat sailed, my friend,” Tony had said in the car as they wove through cars standing still. 

Steve glared at him with that stern expression that tried to pretend he was older and wiser than he was. Tony only hooted with laughter, nothing was going to deter him from enjoying his first day of classes, his first full day free from the Protectorate. Nothing. Not even Mister Scowly Face. 

The building for the Protectorate administration was close to the Admin and Reception Center. It was tucked closer to Memorial Drive and had a good view of the Charles River. It would have been nice, if the building didn’t look like a big hunk of concrete slammed down into the Earth. It stood out like a sore thumb. Hulking, intimidating, and post-apocalyptic. 

As Tony hurried along the sidewalk path to the building, he adjusted his backpack and stared up at the oppressive building. “What the hell? Who picked that out? What kind of architectural design is that?”

“Maybe post 60s early 70s?” Steve answered. 

Not expecting to get an answer, Tony faced him. “What?”

Steve shrugged. He had a small case with him as well, but he hadn’t let on what was actually in the case. “Some buildings built in the 1970s were designed to minimize the ability of a crowd rioting and getting into the building. A lot like a fortress.”

“How do you even know that?”

“I read,” Steve replied and pointed to the building. “Let’s go. I was able to change your appointment to ten o’clock.”

“Well, if you didn’t park all the way across campus, I wouldn’t have to run,” Tony swore under his breath. They got into the Protectorate building and to the right floor without any trouble. Once they were at the Office of Sponsored Research, Tony spent the next hour in meetings regarding his grant money and trying to get it transferred over to his lab. It took damned near forever but he finally succeeded and then had to rush to his class in Integrated Nanotechnology Design. All the while, Steve stayed with him. He wasn’t just a fixture either. He managed to help Tony when needed – an extra pair of hands, someone to run to the appointment and get all the documents in order before Tony had to sign them. If it hadn’t been for Steve the first few hours of graduate school might have broken him.

By the time they went to the Stratton Student Center – called the Stratt – for lunch, Tony’s eyes felt like gravel. He rubbed at them with shaky hands as he slumped down in his seat. Luckily, Steve went to get their lunch as Tony gazed around the café in a kind of glossy haze of consciousness. It was just about then he heard her. 

Standing in the wing of the café near the windows a perky strawberry blonde head spoke to another woman who clearly disregarded everything the strawberry blonde said. Tony leaned forward as the voices carried to his seat.

“You can’t do this, I paid upfront.”

“It doesn’t matter the apartment is mine. You’re not even Protectorate Class,” the shorter woman said. “The Southern Protectorate bought the building and they don’t want Open Class people in it. They have their rules.”

“But we decided to room together. I thought we were friends.”

The Protectorate snob said, “Listen, Pep, I did what I can. They own the building and no state laws are going to supersede the Protectorate laws, you know that. Just – I can give you to the end of the week to get your stuff and move out.”

The strawberry blonde, Pep, threw up her hands and said, “Where am I supposed to live? Where? I can’t afford any place around here.”

The other young woman shrugged her shoulders, picked up her coffee, and said, “I got a class in ten. See you around. Your retina scan will be deleted by Saturday.”

Left alone, Pep remained frozen at the coffee bar, her hands still at her sides. To her credit, she didn’t cry or curse. Eventually she pulled her phone out of her purse. She stared at it for several seconds before she peered up and met Tony’s gaze.

“It’s getting creepy, just to tell you.”

“Hmm? What?” Tony jerked and then stood up. He maneuvered around the chairs and tables to her side. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

She scrolled up on her phone and said, “Sure you did.”

“Okay, I overheard what happened, but I didn’t mean to. I swear,” Tony said and raised his hands in surrender. “Personally, I think your friend there is an ace class asshat.”

“Do you now?” She stuffed her phone back into her gigantic purse, that had a tablet, smart folders, and even a hoodie sticking out of the top. 

“Well, yeah.” Tony stood up and gestured to the extra chair at the table. “I’m Tony Stark, would you join me?”

“The Tony Stark?” The stunned look on her face was reward enough, but she managed to get control of herself and replied, “Pepper, Virginia Potts, but no one calls me Virginia. I’m Pepper to all of my friends.” She slid into the seat as Tony sat back down. 

“Nice to meet you, Pepper Potts.” Tony genuinely liked her immediately. Usually he swung the other way, but he had no qualms about admiring a feast for the eyes of the female persuasion. “Did you have lunch yet?” 

She frowned and dumped her bag next to her chair. “I don’t think I can afford lunch. I’m going to have to put everything I earn into finding a new place. And Boston is a bitch when it comes to finding decent housing on a student stipend.” Pepper rolled her eyes. “God, look who I’m talking to. You probably have your own house here, or a mansion, or just fly in for classes or something.”

Tony ignored all of her comments about his situation and zeroed in on the one piece of information that intrigued him. “You’re Open Class?”

She side eyed him, but before she could answer Steve showed up with a tray of food and a scowl on his face. He placed the tray on the silver metal table and exhaled, loudly. On the tray was an assortment of food, enough for nearly four people. Steve probably bought a variety because he didn’t exactly know Tony’s likes or dislikes, plus he ate like a wrecking machine. 

“Miss, I’m sorry. I am Mister Stark’s bodyguard. I’ll need to know-.”

“Sit down, Commander.” Tony tried to use his sternest, firmest voice. He recalled how Obie could command a room with a simple shout out of _quiet_. Everyone always froze and their attention riveted to him. Tony’s mimicry wasn’t on par with Obie’s but it did the trick. Steve sat down as directed but the resentment flared across his face. Tony chose not to notice. “Pepper Potts, this is my bodyguard, Commander Steve Rogers from the SHIELD Protectorate.”

Pepper smiled at Steve and a burst of jealousy blossomed in Tony’s chest. The only problem was he had no idea why or with whom he was jealous – or envious. He had no idea. Did he want Pepper to smile at him or did he hate the idea of Steve’s attention drawn away from him. Maybe a little of both?

“It’s nice to meet you, Commander. I’m sorry if I’ve intruded on your meal,” Pepper said as she started to stand. “I’ll be going. Nice meeting you, To-.”

“No reason to leave,” Tony said in a rush. “Steve always gets too much food. Please! Join us.” Tony urged her to sit by standing and waving for Steve to do so as well. His bodyguard reluctantly climbed to his feet and encouraged Pepper to stay.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off, Ms. Potts,” Steve said.

“Oh no,” Pepper said. She hesitated but then Tony implored her with a flutter of his eyes and a cocky smile. 

“Come on, sit. Eat.” He pointed to the food. “We could never eat all of this.” His remark elicited another audible exhale from Steve, but Pepper must have taken it as a positive sign.

“Well. Okay. Only if I’m not intruding.”

“You’re not. You’re a welcomed guest. Isn’t she, Commander?” 

The goading caused that muscle at Steve’s jaw to jump and part of Tony loved it. Being able to play him so easily enticed Tony. What else could he do to the Commander? And why did the red blush come across Steve’s face anytime Pepper looked at Tony? Curiouser and curiouser. Tony would follow this line of inquiry down to Wonderland any day. 

“It’s fine, of course, Ms. Potts.” Steve bowed his head slightly and then began to set the food out onto the small round table. Pepper gave him a hand and Tony realized after they finished how very privileged he’d acted, expecting them to wait on him. 

They ate in silence for a moment, but the Tony dared to say, “So, Pepper doesn’t have a place to live right now.”

Steve looked up from his half-finished chicken wrap and his gaze flickered between the two of them. Once he finished chewing and swallowed, he said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Ms. Potts.”

“Pepper,” she said. “It’s true. Tony just overheard my roommate and supposed best friend kick me out of the apartment we were sharing because I’m Open Class.” She tried to lift her shoulder to show it meant little, but it clearly still pained her. She put her fork down and shoved the salad she was eating aside. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. My part of the rent was insanely cheap. My scholarships don’t cover room and board. God, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Can you ask at the student help center? I saw it right around the corner when I was getting the food,” Steve said and pointed over her head and to the left.

Pepper shook her head. “No. I don’t go to MIT. I go to Harvard Business School. My former best friend went to MIT.” Pepper picked up the fork again and started to stab at the tomatoes as if they were her evil nemesis. “I really shouldn’t have trusted her. She always said my status meant nothing, but then why did she always bring it up, you know?”

Tony vigorously nodded. He wanted her to see him as her ally, not just some rich kid from a prime Protectorate. He chowed down on the beef wrap that Steve procured for him and then he pointed to Steve. “He’s Open Class.” It probably sounded more like ‘hzz opah quaz’, but she got it.

“Are you?” Pepper tore the baguette that came with the salad in two. “I didn’t think the Stark Protectorate would allow an Open Class bodyguard.”

“I’m with SHIELD now,” Steve said as if to clear up the confusion, but his tone showed that he was only trying to convince himself. “I grew up in Brooklyn.”

“Brooklyn is part of the SHIELD Protectorate; how are you Open Class? Unless you did something to be stripped of your Protected Class? Did you? What was it?” Pepper said and her eyes danced with relish to hear the story. 

“I don’t-.” Steve started but Tony jumped in and answered, “Oh, he’s not allowed to say. If he did, then he’d have to kill you.” Pepper only half laughed, and Steve glowered at Tony. Forging on, Tony brushed off their lack of enthusiasm for his sense of humor. “But really, Steve’s background is-.”

“Tony, can I talk to you privately?” Steve stated. It wasn’t a question though he framed it as one. It was a command, plain and simple. Tony clammed up. The gleam in Steve’s eyes warned him of the truth. Steve wasn’t only a bodyguard, but also happened to be a conduit for his father and SHIELD to spy on him. If Tony aggravated the Commander enough, who the hell knew who they would assign him as his new security.

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said and picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth. “Don’t go away now. We’ll have ice cream for dessert!” 

Steve stood and Tony followed him, they went to a corner of the café where there was little traffic. Somehow Steve got Tony to stand in the corner as he blocked Pepper’s view of them. He used all of his six foot two inches of height to try and intimidate Tony. 

“Do you realize that I am trying to do a job here?”

“What’s that? Ruin my life?” Tony snapped back.

“We don’t even know who she is. For all we know her little loss of an apartment could have been staged.” Steve’s form threw Tony into the shadows.

“Why are you so worried? If you had been so concerned, then you wouldn’t have left me alone in the café to go and get lunch. Anyone could have come up and killed me, abducted me. Whatever.”

Steve tossed a look at Pepper over his shoulder and then bobbed on his heels of his feet. “I did a risk assessment. It was safe.”

“Safe?” Tony scoffed at him. “What the fuck kind of risk assessment did you do? Look at the windows and doors of the place?”

“No.” Steve held up his hand palm up. He still had on his fingerless gloves. In the corner near the knuckle of his little finger a tiny silver disc was embedded. He pressed it with his thumb. A three-dimensional holographic map appeared of the café and the immediate vicinity. At every point, and every person moving through the area data streamed down the image. Along the border of the image risk assessment factors counted the potential threats as well as safe harbor areas. “I used this.”

“Fuck, and I thought you only had a grandpa phone.” Tony watched the images shift and change. “How the hell is this possible?”

“It was one of the concessions that your parents negotiated when you wanted to go to MIT and the administration here wanted your research. If they agreed to allow you to come, MIT had to allow your bodyguard access to their security web.” The image shifted as Steve tapped his index finger and thumb together. “I can evaluate the threat level in real time.”

“Son of a bitch,” Tony said and ran his hands through his hair. Of course, Howard would do this. Of course, he probably upgraded the entire fucking security measures all through the campus. “Howard gave them an upgrade, didn’t he?”

“They needed one-.”

“Fuck.” Escaping east, to an Open Class area of the United States had been a fantasy and it still was. It was a fairy tale. A fiction. He was under the magnifying glass with Commander Steve ‘I don’t remember my past’ Rogers as his babysitter. Tony pushed Steve aside and marched over to Pepper.

“You want somewhere to live? Somewhere close to Harvard?” Tony felt Steve close at his heels. Tony didn’t wait for Pepper’s reply. “I got a spare bedroom in my apartment. I live over in Riverside, Mount Auburn. You know the building with the five floors, brick.”

“Tony,” Steve said between his teeth. 

“Here.” Tony picked up her phone. “I’ll give you the address.”

“I don’t-.” Pepper started as she eyed Steve’s expression and his obviously rigid composure. 

“Don’t worry,” Tony said. “This isn’t a come on or anything. I’m not interested. Not that you’re not a beautiful woman, you are. But I’m gay. Plus, you’ll be safe there. I have a bodyguard.”

“Do they allow Open Class in the apartment building?” Pepper asked as she opened her phone for Tony to add his address – now her address into the contacts.

He had no idea what the answer to that one was. Turning he waited for Steve to answer, because he was damned sure Steve knew. 

“Yes, they do.” Steve sucked in his lips and Tony just knew – knew he was biting his own tongue to stop himself from pitching a fit over the turn of events. 

Tony snickered as he caught Steve’s stiffened reply. “That’s it then. It’s settled. You can come and stay with me.”

“I don’t even know what the rent is,” Pepper said but her protests were faint and nearly non-existent now.

“Doesn’t matter, I own the apartment. Well, my family does. So you can come and stay for free. I don’t care. If that’s a problem, you can take out the trash or send my dry cleaning out when I need it done,” Tony said and completed giving her all of the pertinent information about the apartment. “You come there tonight at seven and we’ll have everything set up for you. Do you need a ride? We have a car. I could have Steve pick you up-.”

“Tony.” A single word and Tony thought Steve might explode on the spot. If he had been a robot Tony was sure the Commander would be circling around muttering ‘it does not compute’ a thousand times. That earnest look turned to cold bitterness and fierce resentment. Tony had no idea what the Commander’s circumstances were. Sure, he knew that Steve was a war hero – or just soldier since he had no idea about whether he classified as a hero not really. Sure, Natasha confessed that Steve had amnesia but little else. Steve had even confirmed it but didn’t elaborate – what and where and when he remembered dangled in the air like a tainted stench. 

If what Steve said about his Open Class status was true, then it meant that the SHIELD Protectorate brought him on under the weight of debt of some kind. Regardless of his recovery from a traumatic brain injury and his veteran classification, being Open Class meant that a Protectorate exacted a price, a tax on those non-Protectorate citizens to play in their sandbox. It worked out very well as an income source for all the Protectorates. If Open Class wanted to work as part of the Protectorate, then they owed. Their contracts usually stipulated the terms. Tony could very well be mucking it up for Steve. 

Tony narrowed his focus on Steve. “I’m not asking you to move out. You’re my bodyguard. I’m asking you to help a young woman in distress.” Pepper started to speak again but Tony put his hand up. “You can vet her. Check her out. Everything. But I think this is the right thing to do.”

Steve shifted his eyes away from Tony. He said nothing, but Tony heard the machinations of his brain as if a locomotive crashed through the student center. 

Without pause he forged forward to the brink. “Steve, don’t worry. You can stay in my room. It would be better anyhow for your position. Right in my room. Watchful eye on me at all times. Except if I hang a sock on the door handle, then you sleep in the living room.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” Pepper managed to say.

“The master bedroom is huge. Big enough to share. What do you say?” Tony feigned friendship with a slight punch to Steve’s bicep. Steve stared at the impact site on his arm and then back at him. Tony laughed it off and touched Steve’s arm as if he could wipe away the smack – but even then, his hand lingered because the muscle, the contour was just to prominent to ignore. “Wow, big guy, that’s significant muscle mass there.”

Steve moved his arm away from Tony but shifted his attention to Pepper. “I’ll have to do a full background check and vet recommendations. I’ll start immediately. But until then I can have SHIELD put you up at a local hotel – five star-.” He added the last to ward off Tony’s protests. “The SHIELD Protectorate has several blocks at local hotels they routinely keep reserved. I can get you a room while I do the background checks and risk assessment. If that works for you, I can see what I can do.”

Joy blossomed over Pepper’s face. Tony smiled and glanced over at Steve who genuinely seemed pleased with her reaction. 

“Okay we do this,” Tony said. He slapped Steve again for good measure. 

With a grumble, Steve got to his feet again and said, “I’m going to get the ball rolling.” He walked a short distance and pulled out that ancient phone that Tony suspected might not be as ancient as it looked. 

“Your bodyguard is a little bit of a puzzle,” Pepper said. 

“You said it.” 

“He’s also one hundred percent hot. I don’t even think he knows he’s hot. He has that look about him-.” Pepper tilted her head as she watched Steve from afar.

“That look that’s like oblivious to how he must silence a room when he walks through the door. Yet, he doesn’t know. He’s completely oblivious.”

“He’s that kind of person,” Pepper said with a little sigh. “Do you think he’s really as earnest as he sounds? How long has he been your bodyguard? Do you-.”

Tony interrupted her. “Yes he is that earnest. He’s been my bodyguard for less than a week. And no, I don’t think he’s dating anyone. And no, I don’t think he wants to date anyone. He’s all business and no fun.”

“That stinks,” Pepper said and crossed her arms as she sat back. She still stared at him. “He is nice to look at.”

“And just think you can ogle him every day for the rest of the year,” Tony smirked. She laughed and turned bright red. It confirmed everything he needed to know about her. “I’m starting to think that this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“Just might be.”

True to his word, Steve got Pepper settled in a five-star hotel for the first week of classes as he worked to finish the background checks. She complied with all of his queries and went through the vetting process without a hitch. Howard would eventually find out about it, Tony was sure. Yet as far as he knew, Steve kept the information tight to his chest and didn’t spill the beans to anyone that Pepper would actually be moving into the apartment.

On the day she was scheduled to move in, Tony found Steve programming the iris lock on their door with Pepper’s scans and data. He hadn’t known that Steve was technologically savvy. He winked at Tony and said, “Shush, don’t tell Natasha. Otherwise I’ll have to file all those reports myself.”

Devious. A feature that Tony found not only intriguing but also attractive. It surprised him that Steve followed through with everything. He diligently worked it out and, on top of that, was respectful and polite to Pepper. He even arranged for the movers to go to her last apartment and collect her things without charge. When she tried to pay him, he waved her off. When she thanked him, he only noted that he would have done it himself, had he not had other responsibilities. 

As the movers brought Peppers belongings into the apartment, Steve helped remove the original bed that had been in the room assigned to him. The previous night Steve gathered all of his stuff – which pitifully fit into one suitcase and a large box – and moved them out of the room. Feeling quite useless, Tony offered part of his closet in the master bedroom.

“It’s huge. I’m not even using the whole thing. Shit we could probably put a bed in there for you.” Maybe that last part sounded a bit privileged, but Steve took it the right way – which Tony was grateful for and thanked him.

“If you can show me, I’ll move my clothes and books in there. I’ll put my bedding in the hall closet.”

Tony scratched his head as he walked into his bedroom. “This way.” Turning to glance at Steve he asked, “Why the hall closet?”

Steve followed Tony into the bedroom. The movers were cursing at Pepper’s canopy bed. Steve ignored the question. “Maybe we should help the movers.”

“They’ll figure it out,” Tony said and opened the closet. It truly was a huge room with shelving and drawers lining two of the full walls. “This section I cleaned out. You can put your clothes in the drawers and hang up what you need over in that corner. Some shelves might work for your books.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. He placed the suitcase on the floor and opened it. Every article of clothing was precision folded – for a short trip from one end of the apartment to the other. 

Tony stood and watched for a few minutes. Steve didn’t have a huge wardrobe. His uniform, his shirts that went with the uniform which were really just under armor. His boots he lined up under the jacket and coat he hung. The rest of his clothes really consisted of work out wear and some dockers with a few jerseys. Not much. 

“Not a huge fashion fan?”

Steve gave him a half smile. “Apparently I didn’t have a lot before the injury? I don’t know. They only gave me a little bit of stuff and most of it was just the books. They did give me some brand-new SHIELD t-shirts. I suppose those are nice.”

“T-shirts. Shit, they should have at least given you your stuff from your apartment. Didn’t they?”

Steve shook his head. “They said that I was deployed and didn’t have much. I spent the last few years in the War.”

“What war?” Tony asked. He had to; he couldn’t stand the big W anymore. Curiosity finally pitched him over the cliff. 

Stone silent Steve only shook his head again. 

“God that must stuck.”

Steve finished up without comment and then left the bedroom to fold up his bedding. It jogged Tony’s curiosity again. “So why the hall closet?”

“I figured it would be easiest if I’m sleeping out here,” Steve said and expertly folded a fitted sheet. Tony watched in utter amazement how he brought the two corners together tucking one end into the other and then repeated the process with the other end. Tony knew A.I. programs that still couldn’t figure it out. 

“But I thought you would sleep in my room.” Tony said absently as he tried to figure out how Steve hid the rumpled fitted elastic part of the sheet in the final product.

“I don’t think you want me in there.”

“Like I said, as long as I don’t have a sock on the door knob, I really don’t care.” Steve stacked the bedding, the blankets, sheets, and pillows. “Just put them in the bedroom, Steve.”

The movers cursed in a language Tony couldn’t place and then a clatter and bang rang out. Pepper laughed and the older gentleman yelled something at the younger man who looked suspiciously like him and was probably his son. Tony sighed.

“Listen, just put your stuff in my room. We’ll figure it out. There’s a couch in there. The bed is huge. I don’t care. If you want to sleep on the floor to save your virtue fine. But, like you said, you’re supposed to be protecting me. Please do.” Tony made a sweeping gesture to his bedroom. “Now, I’m going to rescue Pepper, because that’s what a prince of my caliber does.”

He marched off to Pepper’s room. She already put up curtains on the single window as well as a mirror that reflected the light nicely and opened up the smaller bedroom. The canopy wasn’t up, and Pepper instructed the men, “I said you don’t need to add the canopy. The room is too small anyway. Just put the headboard- no not the canopy. The headboard.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Let me.” 

After a sum total of ten minutes he’d completed the task and the movers finally left. Pepper looked around in delight and she smiled at him. It was worth every single stressful moment. “I can’t thank you enough. This building is the envy of everyone on campus. You really saved me, Tony. You don’t even know me.”

He lifted his shoulder trying for debonair but probably only affecting idiocy. As he started to reply, a knock came on the door.

“Come,” Pepper said.

Steve peered into the room. He lifted his phone – that grandpa one – and said, “I’ve been called into SHIELD. They’re sending someone to take my place.”

“What?” Tony said and jumped up from the floor where they’d been sitting. Pepper followed him to her feet. “Why?” Tony might be at odds with Steve more often then not, but the truth was the guy was beginning to grow on him. He might be rigid in his sense of duty, but hell he always looked out for Tony. The last week showed Tony that simple fact. 

Steve glanced at Pepper then back to Tony and said, “Can we talk in your room?”

Tony inhaled, looked at Pepper, and then exhaled. “Sure.”

They never made it to the bedroom – the buzzer on the door rang and the A.I. announced Agents Brock Rumlow and Clint Barton of the SHIELD Protectorate. Tony considered denying them entrance and would have but he bet his theory on arc reactors that SHIELD and his father could easily override his orders. He conceded. “Let them in.”

The door opened and the agents entered. Steve seemed to know them. Tony vaguely recalled Natasha referring to a Clint on the Tower ‘covering them’. To his credit Steve acted like they were only visiting for dinner. 

“Tony,” Steve said and introduced both of the agents. Clint offered a hand and, although Tony wasn’t one to shake, he acquiesced. Clint had a friendly if rugged smile and greeted Tony with a companionable ‘how’s life treating you’. Tony liked him. 

Rumlow on the other hand grunted something indiscernible to Tony and simply turned to Steve and said, “Commander they want you back at the Protectorate.”

“I know. Hold on.”

“Now,” Rumlow said. The words turned to ice in Tony’s gut and his attention snapped to Steve. Once again, Steve remained collected without reaction.

“I’ll get my stuff,” Steve said and started toward the master bedroom. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tony said. “Don’t I get a say in this? I don’t want to change bodyguards. No offense.” Clint pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “Why does he have to leave?”

“Commander Rogers has been recalled to the Protectorate for violating article five dash two nine three.”

“Whatever the hell that is,” Tony muttered.

Rumlow snickered and straightened his shoulders as if to intimidate them. “Commander Rogers had a job to do and he broke several protocols, and therefore, he needs to return to the Protectorate.”

“So I’m stuck with him,” Tony said and pointed at Clint. “Sorry, no offense.”

Clint crossed his arms as he watched the game played out. “Seriously, none taken.”

“Agent Barton is considered one of the top agents at the SHIELD Protectorate.” Rumlow nodded to Steve. “Get your stuff. We’re leaving now.”

Pepper had appeared at her bedroom door. “If this is my fault-.”

“No, Ms. Potts.” Steve tried to ward off her worry. 

The buzzer rang again and the A.I. stated that six more SHIELD agents were at the door. Rumlow focused on Steve. “Time’s up, Commander. Let’s go. Barton, send his stuff back to the Protectorate.”

“Please, I can leave!” Pepper rushed out her room.

Steve put up his hand and said, “It’s okay, Ms. Potts. I didn’t do my duty. It’s not the end of the world.” He turned to Clint. “I’ll send you my address.” Clint agreed.

“Steve,” Tony whispered. He barely knew the guy, but the weight of guilt crushed him. 

“Good luck with your studies, Tony.” 

In every class during the first week, Steve stood silently to the side. Listening to the lecture, staying invisible to the students. When Tony hurried to one class or to the new lab he was setting up, Steve had been there. He’d also helped with that lab. The building of the scaffold for the work Tony needed to perform in order to study the theory behind the arc reactor, Steve participated in even offering advice about the practicalities of the construction. It had only been a week, but Steve had done his job and more. And Tony got him fired and probably worse because of his stunt with Pepper. 

“Take care,” Steve said and with that the six agents surrounded him and Rumlow led them out of the apartment. 

Just before Rumlow exited, he turned back to Tony and winked. “Nothing personal.”

Steve had said it wasn’t the end of the world. Tony gazed at the empty space where Steve had occupied and said in a faint voice, “It kind of feels like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel like leaving a comment or dropping an idea for a chapter (I could always use some) go right ahead! It'll be fun, you'll see!


	3. Party Like It's 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony deals with not having Steve around. Dystopia becomes a reality. Tony needs a knight in shining armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes for this chapter - it looks like Clint isn't doing his job - he is. He just sees better at a distance. You will also note some dubious touching and kissing. It might be a little triggery for some people. 
> 
> Lastly, remember when I said this wasn't a story about dystopia and how to deal with it. HAHAHA - yeah no.

It took a month, but Tony finally put his finger on it. Sitting at the kitchen island which doubled as a bar with stools, Tony stabbed at this bowl of cereal with his spoon. Pepper puttered around the kitchen with its white cupboards and glass panes in them and variations of gray tiles along the backsplash of the marble countertop (yes as a grad student Tony had marble countertops). She only half listened to him as he complained.

“I think I finally got it.”

She made a little ‘hmm’ noise as she prepared a stir fry for dinner. Tony’s internal clock was all off. He’d spent the last week only getting about an hour or two of sleep a night. It had nothing to do with studying (the classes were child’s play and he felt sorry for his professors sometimes when he showed them up in class time and time again) and everything to do with this work in the lab. While he desperately wanted to work on his idea for clean energy, his stupid mentor – Hank Pym was bound and determined to force him to work on advancements in artificial intelligence that just seemed so passé to Tony. Butting heads with one of the biggest names at MIT wouldn’t serve Tony at all, so he took the high road and he worked on the AI crap during the day and his arc reactor at night. Pym saw the scaffold for the mini-accelerator right off the bat, but only cocked his brow and required more progress on the AI development. It all meant that Tony got no sleep and he was eating cereal at seven in the evening. The first night he took off in over four weeks.

“I think Clint might be a mole.”

Pepper shook the frying pan and made all the veggies jump and flip. She really was a wonder at cooking though she feigned not having any talent in it at all. _Just because you in your misogynistic brain think I should know how to cook, doesn’t mean I have any interest in it at all_. She’d told him off when he complimented her risotto once. He wasn’t a misogynist and they debated that definition and his understanding of it for a while, but she finally came down on the side that he was at least enlightened.

“A mole, like a spy. I think that’s part of what SHIELD does,” Pepper said. “Really Tony, as a Protected Class you shouldn’t be surprised. You and your freedoms.” She left that little gem just hanging like she wanted him to argue about it. He refused the bait.

“No, like the animal. The mole. I mean I don’t even know where he is most of the time and then he just appears, and it freaks me out.” Tony munched on the Cheerios (peanut butter variety). “I miss Steve.”

Pepper let out a long sigh. “You didn’t even know Steve.”

“He was nice.”

“It’s a been a month.”

“Well, I wanted him not this bird guy.” Tony shoved away the soggy cereal and peered at the frying pan on the stove top on the same kitchen island. “That looks good.”

Pepper snickered and said, “Made enough for both of us, but don’t you give me any of that misogynistic crap.”

Raising his hands in surrender, Tony said, “I promise not to say you are a good cook.”

She laughed and commanded the stove to turn off. She tilted her head and said, “Want to get the plates out?” 

He jumped up and rounded the island, opening one of the cupboards he went for the blue and gray plates. “You want plates or bowls?”

“Bowls.” She boiled rice as well. 

He retrieved the bowls and placed them next to her on the counter. After, Tony picked up two glasses and a bottle of wine. Pepper was a few years older than him and sure did come with some lovely features – like being able to legally buy alcohol. He slid the glasses onto the counter as well and then found the corkscrew while Pepper dished out their meal. 

“I mean, where is Clint now?” Tony said. “I don’t even know where the guy sleeps.” He poured the wine, not letting the bottle breathe at all, but it wasn’t a fancy type of chardonnay anyhow. No amount of breathing was going to save it. He offered her a glass as she settled onto the stool next to him. 

“I thought you were happy.” Pepper sipped the wine, made a face, but said nothing. She picked it out. She needed a few courses in oenology. She set the glass aside and picked up her chopsticks. She had skills – he couldn’t use the damned things if his life depended on it. “You didn’t have to have a bodyguard hanging around you all the time.”

“But how do I know he’s protecting me?” Tony pierced a red pepper. “I mean Steve took his job so seriously. Like I was his job. Clint, I think he just kind of wants to get it over with. Like he looks at it as if he’s babysitting me.”

“Isn’t that what you said you felt like with Steve anyhow?” 

“I don’t know. I feel-.”

“Guilty,” Pepper supplied when he failed to come up with the correct word. “So do I. I’m more guilty than you. He was called away because he broke protocol.”

“Really?” Tony swallowed the mouthful of tangy veggies. “Then why isn’t Clint around more? How could Steve break some protocol when Clint’s barely here. Plus, you’re still here. No sweat, no problems. I think it’s kind of suspicious.”

“It’s all suspicious. That’s how Protectorates are. You think you have it made with your fancy new smart infrastructure everywhere. But what did you do to get it? Sold your soul, that’s what.”

“I didn’t.” Tony downed the glass of wine and then poured himself another. Pepper frowned at him and he just cocked his eyebrows at her.

“Do you even know what the Constitution says?”

“What is this about Freedom of Speech again, because we all know that went out the window in the 20s.” He drank the wine even though it tasted a bit like it was flirting with the idea of becoming vinegar.

“Well, we are living in a dystopia.” Pepper chomped on a snow pea. “Once the government started ignoring the Constitution.”

“I don’t think they ignore it exactly.”

“No? Then how is it you get more rights than I do because your Protected Class?” Pepper shook her head. “I have my undergrad degree in American History. You might think it’s a joke, Tony, but it’s really telling that most people can’t state much about the Constitution other than the first Amendment and that’s just glorified these days.”

Tony pushed the veggies around in his bowl, looking for the meat. Did she go veggie again? He hated it when it was just veggies and nuts all the time. “What does it matter?” he mumbled.

“It matters a lot. Look at your Commander,” Pepper said, her eyes intense. “You would think you could get in touch with him. Have you been able to?” Tony stayed silent. All of his attempts had been roadblocked. “Maybe he’s busy, but maybe he isn’t. Like you said, he’s Open Class living under the Protectorate. He owes something to the Protectorate and so he does what they say.”

“He also has no memory.”

“And they’re feeding him the memory they want him to have,” Pepper said and tasted the wine again only to blanch at its acidity. “God, how can you drink that.”

“How can you buy it,” Tony said and tossed his napkin to the side. “Pepper, you’re creeping me out with this whole thing. You think SHIELD like killed him or something?”

She lifted a shoulder in puzzlement. “I don’t know, Tony. But I hope you open your eyes. You came all the way across the country, to live in an Open Class area but you’re surrounded by the Protectorate.” Pepper waved to the apartment. “Don’t get me wrong. You saved my life and my career probably. I couldn’t afford to get anything as nice as this. I probably would have had to stay at a hostel for a while.”

“I know that, don’t you think I know that?” Tony said and his appetite soured. “I’m doing my best here, Pep. I am. I’m lucky my father let me come all this way. He wanted me to stay put, go to grad school or not. He didn’t care. He wanted more weapons and he wanted my designs. I’ve been creating new ideas for him, designing weapons since I was twelve. I get it. I really do.”

Pepper reached over to him and placed her hand on his and gave him a squeeze. “I’m not condemning you or accusing you. I just want you to understand it’s more complex than you can imagine.”

Tony held in the tension, but he still let out a heavy exhale. The idea that he hadn’t even come close to peeling away all that had been concealed from him pressed down on him, the weight of millions waiting for him – Tony Stark – to get it, to understand the gray in between all the black and white. “Yeah. Yeah.” He finally said. “But how does this have anything to really do with Steve and that fact I’ll probably never see him again.”

“Well,” Pepper said as she withdrew her hand. “Take it as a lesson learned? I know that’s not a good consolation or anything, but now you’re getting the idea – how easily things can be pulled and taken away from someone from the Open Class.”

“But they took him away from me and I’m Protected,” Tony objected.

Pepper raised a single brow as she picked up her glass. “Did they? Or did they take _you_ away from him?”

That clanged a bell so loudly in Tony’s head he thought he might drop over from the reverberations and the consequences ricocheting like a lead ball in his head. So many corollaries, so many aftereffects and outcomes. The potentials were mind boggling. “Damn.”

She gave a little laugh that wasn’t joyful but someone knowing. “Now, you’re getting it.”

He couldn’t eat another mouthful of food. He needed to get out, to walk, to move. Tony got off the stool and tapped the counter. “Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re going and leaving me with the mess. Again.” Pepper glared at him.

“I promise to do your laundry for a month.” Tony called as he went to his room and grabbed his satchel. 

“I’m not your wife,” Pepper yelled back. “And you stink at doing laundry.”

He smirked and had to agree. He did his undershorts and put too much of Pepper’s fabric softener in the washer. Now all his fucking farts smiled like tainted lilacs. He would never look at purple flowers again in his life without thinking about crap. He dug his phone out of his jeans and was about to text Clint to get a ride to campus when the apartment AI that Tony jokingly called Fuck Face chimed and said that Agent Barton was at the door. 

“God, I hate that thing,” Tony muttered. He really needed to give Fuck Face an upgrade, but that just played right into Pym’s hand. He glanced around the apartment as he opened the door to see Clint standing there with a toothpick hanging from his lips. “You’re spying on me.”

“I’m a spy. Get used to it.” Clint said. “Let’s go. I want to catch the curling meet from Calgary. It starts at nine local time.”

“Yes, because that’s all kinds of thrilling.”

“It’s chess on ice. Let’s go,” Clint said and didn’t wait for Tony to follow him. 

The ride to campus reminded Tony of Cirque du Soleil. Clint turned on the music – only instrumental and wove the car through the traffic as if he was both an acrobat and a stagehand all at the same time. Tony found himself holding his breath and gripping the armrest more than once. Driving with Clint was a regular occurrence, but Tony couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. When they finally parked and Tony headed toward his laboratory, Clint drifted away from him as if he had only been there to offer a ride. After everything that Pepper said, the words burst out of Tony before he even thought of the consequences.

“Why do you even come with me?” Tony said as the distance between himself and Clint widened. “What kind of bodyguard isn’t close to the body? I mean like me. Still alive, body. What the hell?” Why was he arguing? It was his dream to not have to have a tagalong everywhere, but Steve’s words echoed in his brain. He’d done the risk assessment. Tony was in real danger. Did Clint even do a risk assessment, did he even know what one was?

“I see better at a distance,” Clint said, gave him a salute, and took off. Tony only saw a glimpse of him in the spots of light pooling on the pavement from the campus streetlamps. 

Throwing his hands up, Tony only shook his head and went to his laboratory. Luckily, it wasn’t a night that Pym was working late. Rumor had it, SHIELD was trying to recruit Pym to work with them. Something about Pym particles and the quantum realm. It seemed interesting enough, but his mentor kept that information to himself. He didn’t allow his grad students or even his post-docs to work on the Pym particles project. Most of the lab thought it was because he didn’t want to share the patent – if he ever got one. That fact made the idea of Pym ever leaving for SHIELD a very distant and small probability. Hank didn’t share well. 

Tony checked around the u-shaped lab – it took up three lab bays but in different sections of the building all intertwined with walkways between them. No one was around, which wasn’t typical, but it had been a long week and it was Sunday night. He tossed his satchel and went to his desk terminal. The computer reached up to the ceiling with its multifaceted interfaces. He waved his arm once and then the computer came alive with a scan of his face, retina, and fingerprints. In seconds, a holographic image of a woman with red hair and blue fire for eyes (that little touch Tony was especially proud of). The AI focused her flaming eyes on Tony.

“Nice to see you Tony.”

“Great to see you too, Jocasta. Been a few days.”

“You spend too much time with that other one,” Jocasta said and glared at the terminal.

“Now, what did we say about being jealous?” Tony said and swept his hand over the terminal to activate the hidden capabilities he’d added to the base computer. It only took a month because it was child’s play to Tony. 

“Jealousy is a form of sentience and I deserve better?” The AI framed it in a question, but Tony knew better.

“Jocasta, I could very easily remove some of your snark,” Tony threatened but he would never do it. He liked his AIs a little snarky. 

The image flickered – something it shouldn’t do but the Jocasta AI learned to add it into her programming to show disgust and frustration with Tony. He snickered. The AI learned faster and faster. Pym would be furious to know that Tony broke through the neural emotional barrier for robotics. He’d been trying to do it for ages. It hadn’t been difficult, he’d modeled it after the limbic system of the brain, carefully reconstructing the basic tenets of the biochemistry as well as the neural infrastructure of the amygdala. It wasn’t perfect – hell, Jocasta laughed inappropriately at times – but it was far and a way leaps beyond what Pym’s other students had accomplished.

“What are we working on tonight?” Jocasta did an about face. She was playing nice nice tonight. She must want something.

He ignored that unspoken request and went straight for the jugular. “I need to hack into SHIELD.”

“You started that already but got nowhere,” Jocasta responded and mimicked a sigh. She was playing at being bored but it came off more like an over privileged Protectorate teen waiting more, more, more while there were so many others with less, less, less. 

“I know I already started it.” Tony turned to the interface terminal and started his program. “It’s too basic. The program I wrote. It went only superficially as far as an attack on the SHIELD defenses. I should have known better.”

“You should have, but you were too busy ogling asses.”

“I don’t think we have to discuss my tendencies to like a little ass in my face,” Tony replied. “How about we try something a little more daring.”

“Oh Tony, I thought you’d never ask.” Jocasta sidled up to him. 

Sexual innuendo was not something Tony programmed into Jocasta. He frowned. “Have you been reading fanfiction again?”

“It’s the only way to go to get a little ass.”

Maybe he wrote a little too much of his own personality into her code. “Down to business, if you please,” Tony said mimicking his favorite butler, Jarvis. Now, why didn’t Tony just write a program with Jarvis in mind. Things to put on the to do list. “Let’s see how far we got into SHIELD’s database.”

“I’m afraid not far.” Jocasta displayed the work that Tony had abandoned once Steve left his side. It was the barest progress. Hacking into the world’s most paranoid Protectorate necessitated more than a little bit of ingenuity and a lot of innovation. It wasn’t like there was a blatant back door. There had to be cracks – Tony knew that much.

Tony had Jocasta scan the defenses with his most subtle program. The last thing he wanted to do was alert the Protectorate. He needed information. But just what information, he still didn’t know. Look for a yellow car, that’s what you’ll find but if you really need to find a green one and didn’t know it then you were kind of screwed. He needed to spread out the parameters, work on different fronts. Flanking the enemy could achieve the results Tony wanted. 

“Jo-Jo, how about we look into a dynamic field array, like we want to poke the dragon on different fronts but with like a fly. Fly bites so not to alert anyone,” Tony said. He started to write out the program.

The image of Jocasta disintegrated and then a network hologram appeared that looked suspiciously like a spiderweb. Jocasta’s voice rang out from the computer speakers. “Remember the web can always catch you.”

“I know, I know.” 

Hacking was never the problem. When slipping in under the radar and not getting caught became important, everything that he did had to be meticulously planned out – until it hit him. “Son of a bitch.”

“That’s not nice. I haven’t even decided my gender yet,” Jocasta answered.

“No,” Tony hissed. “We’re doing this all wrong.” He spun on his chair as Jocasta rematerialized from the holographic projectors he’d installed in front of him. “It’s not about breaking into SHIELD at all. It’s about getting into the Stark Protectorate.” He whooped and then went back to the console. “So easy.”

“Have to fill me in Tony, you’re getting a little bonkers.”

“Don’t you see my little creation,” Tony said as he tapped his way across the interweb of lies. “Stark and SHIELD have an agreement. I’m the result of that agreement. I mean not really, but really. There are lines of communication set up between them.”

“Bound to be isolated and highly protected,” Jocasta noted.

“Not from me,” Tony said and laughed. “They don’t know how integrated I am into the Stark web. They just don’t know. I started it when I was eight and they have no fucking clue. I get to slip in and get whatever the hell I want.”

Going to his backdoor in the Stark web presented no problems for Tony. He flicked through it like he was flinging stink bugs off rocks. With Jocasta analyzing each dataset as he created it, Tony easily picked out the weaknesses in the Stark web that connected to the SHIELD web. It might not get him all the way to their intranet but it would open the door at least. Since Tony spent a good deal of his college days programming for the Stark Protectorate as well as being a consultant for SHIELD during the earliest days of the Stark/SHIELD alliance, he made sure that networks interwove. In theory an intranet should never connect to an internet. The whole purpose of something like an intranet was a virtual skiff. Set apart and clean from all outside influences. Tony had built quite a few separate nodes. He’d also built in hidden threads so that even if they protected the whole of the intranet he’d still be able to sneak his way back in. Still due to the nature of the intranet infrastructure while he could connect, he still had the basic issue of being the kid on the outside of the fence looking in. 

After a night’s work, Tony discovered weakened points to attack and to break into the SHIELD intranet. It would take time and a lot of patience. If he rushed it, then he was bound to end up with a gaping hole that would jigger their code and end up with IT people crawling all over it which would lead to him. He didn’t want to chance it. The program he set up was painstakingly thorough and refined and a piece of fucking art. Something he would like to brag about, but never could considering the nefarious reasons to do it. 

Morning light shone through the slit windows and Tony blinked. He rubbed at his eyes and spun around in his chair to go and get coffee only to find Barton standing next to the wall of the lab, arms crossed, eyes a little too weird for Tony’s liking. 

He startled when he saw Clint but recovered quickly. “Shit, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough.”

Tony peered over his shoulder and then back at Jocasta. If he was a kid with his hand in a cookie jar, he knew he couldn’t look guiltier. “So?” He had no quick come back. Maybe because he needed sleep, or maybe because his one chance to figure out why SHIELD took Steve away from him (or was it they took Tony away from Steve) might be blown up.

“I thought you didn’t want to help Pym with AI shit?” Clint’s focus was decidedly on Jocasta.

Tony hit the console and Jocasta disappeared much to her chagrin as she did a long drawn out sigh. “I don’t.”

Clint pointed to the space Jocasta had occupied. “Then what was that?”

“Little side project.” Now was the time to lock things down and get out of Dodge before the shoot-out happened. His fingers flew over the console – thank the computer gods that Tony had the good sense to build in hardware that wasn’t solely dependent on speech commands. The whole console tilted at an angle for ease of use. He grabbed it, swiveled it around to its off and locked position. It shut down easily and then Tony made a dramatic yawn. “Time for bed.”

“It’s morning.”

Tony gestured wildly. “You don’t say! Wow! Let’s go back to the loft, bird boy.” He didn’t wait for ninja spy guy to follow him. 

Nothing fazed Clint. He stayed good natured regardless of Tony’s misdeeds or mistreatment. One thing that Tony should definitely like about him was that he kept his distance. It was nice. Kinda. Not really. Steve had done a risk assessment. There was risk. He assessed it. The risk.

On the ride back to the apartment, Tony asked bird boy. “So you do your own risk assessment?”

Clint screwed up his face and shook his head. “Not really. I like to fly a little freer than that. Don’t like to pin myself down to risks that are perceived by an evaluation. I like to see them for myself.”

“Wait. So you just hang out and see what happens?” Tony asked.

“Well, putting it like that makes it sounds like I’m not even trying.” Clint snickered – actually chuckled a little bit under his breath.

“It _is_ like you’re not even trying.” Tony clutched his satchel closer to his chest. Now he really needed to get Steve back. As they wove through the Boston streets, the rain started. It looked to be a miserable day. He missed the Protectorate on days like this – with its smart streets so traffic was a thing of the past. The Protectorate sidewalks were maintained to respond to nasty weather with awnings extended from buildings. Drones hovered over the entire grid and answered to problems areas throughout the city streets. It was all so civilized. He frowned inwardly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to campus. Your class starts in an hour and the traffic looks like it’s going to choke up,” Clint said as he followed the long line of cars.

“No,” Tony said and found his hands squeezing his satchel handle over and over again. “I think I’m gonna get some sleep.”

Clint glanced at him, but then shrugged. “Okay. If that’s what you want. You’re the boss.”

“Am I?”

Clint winked. “Nah. But you already knew that.”

Always a comedian. Tony wanted Steve – dour, earnest, hopeful, serious Steve back. At least he did a risk assessment. “What risks did Steve identify?” Maybe Barton at least read the report.

Sometime along the way, Clint unwrapped a lollipop and sucked on it while he drove. It clinked against his teeth as he spoke. “If I told you I’d have to kill you and that would negate the whole protecting you kind of deal, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“That’s not nice. My mother was a fine woman. Just because I had a dead-beat father who wouldn’t marry her once he knocked her up has nothing to do with it.”

Crap. Now he was insulting innocent woman. “Sorry.”

Clint pulled the lollipop out and smiled. “You’re too wound up. Maybe you do need some sleep.”

Now, Tony had no idea if his mother did have bastard children or not. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Clint was a pain in the ass so in that sense he was a bastard, but Tony had no idea if he was a bastard – bastard. God, he needed sleep. He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. He just needed some sleep. Once they got to the apartment, Clint led Tony to his apartment door, nodded to him when he entered, and then did his disappearing act again. Tony wanted to go a little crazy at him. What’s the use of a bodyguard when the bodyguard didn’t even check for threats? Tony tossed his satchel on the kitchen counter and then headed to his bedroom. He threw himself on the bed and stared at the ceiling when his phone beeped.

Yanking it out of his pocket he answered it. “Yes?”

“Are you going to homecoming this weekend?” Pepper. Why did Pepper need to know this now? Why was this important? Who the hell cared about homecoming? Did MIT even have a football team?

“No?”

“Come on Tony. We’re all going?”

He could ask “we who?” But instead said, “I’m tired. I need to get some sleep. Ask me when I wake up.”

“Fine. You’re going,” Pepper said, and the phone went dead. 

Great. Now he needed to find out if MIT had a football team. What was homecoming? Was it a dance? Or did it have to do with parents? Because Tony knew his parents couldn’t give a crap if he was alive or dead – obviously since they took away the one bodyguard who actually cared and gave him Clint – Fly by Night – Bodyguard extraordinaire! 

Luckily for Tony, he connected his phone up with Jocasta in the lab. With a simple voice command she appeared hovering over his bed. It was kind of creepy but also weirdly erotic. “Jocasta, does MIT have a football team.”

The image of Jocasta rolled her eyes and then lounged on the bed next to him. It unnerved him. “Yes, my dear one. It does.”

“Dear one -where did that come from?” Tony blanched. Maybe she was some kind of AI take over the world kind of program. Skynet here we come.

“I’m trying out new styles of address.” She flipped her hair and smiled. “Do you like?”

“At home Friday calls me boss.”

Jocasta clucked and shook her head. Her image dissipated. “I don’t think I’ll do that. But I wanted to tell you that we got a hit.”

“Hit?” Tony wanted to shower but the idea of his AI watching him and deciding how to address him, preempted that move. 

“Yep. The Stark Protectorate has several avenues into the SHIELD Protectorate. Most are routine and, while I could hack them, they won’t come to much information. Basic sub routines, diagnostics, not much there. But, love of my life, I did find something that might be interesting.”

Tony mouthed the words ‘love of my life’ and then placed a hand over his eyes. What the hell? He really needed to go back in her code and do something about the sentient intelligence variant he added. It was supposed to monitor for AI growth and maturation not change how things worked, and not bring any sentience to his AI. 

“Are you listening, lover?”

“Don’t call me that, and yes I am listening.”

“The Stark Protectorate and the SHIELD Protectorate are major players in the military industrial complex. The Defense Department relies on both of the Protectorates as integral to its functioning from combat readiness to joint warfighter actions to espionage, etc.” 

“Yeah yeah.” He needed sleep. “I get that.”

“Well because of that, the Stark and SHIELD Protectorates share a secure drive.” A shared drive? If that was true, then Tony might not need to get to the intranet. “It’s extremely well protected and, in order to crack into it, there would have to be a hardware wired into it. But that’s the way to go. If you want in, then there’s the way.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “I am never going to be able to get a hardware device plunked onto a SHIELD computer core. That’s not going to happen.” He grabbed his phone and manually shut off Jocasta. The AI would be pissed next time he accessed it, but he needed some peace and quiet. 

Tony supposed he should find out more about this MIT football team and homecoming, but at that moment all he wanted was a good shower and some sleep. It ended up that he mixed up the order of his wishes, sleeping first and then showering in the afternoon once he jolted awake from a disturbing nightmare about Jocasta and her proclivities. And why was he thinking about an AI with a gender? After showering, he headed to the kitchen only to find Clint sitting at the island munching on a bowl of cereal. 

“Really?” Tony said. “Where do you live exactly?”

“I live where I need to be, at the moment.” Clint twisted around on the stool and ordered, “Switch on SHIELD Protectorate News.”

“I don’t want to watch that biased channel!” Tony protested but Clint raised a finger and placed it on his lips.

“Watch and learn.”

Tony almost abandoned having his mid-afternoon breakfast to go back to his bedroom in order to flee Clint Barton, but the images on the screen stopped him. He forgot about his cereal, almost dropped the bowl before he placed it on the counter and went to the living room area. “Turn up the sound.”

The images were flat screened - data recorded on older equipment. Secretary Alexander Pierce stood in the center of a gaggle of paparazzi. He looked refined in his three-piece suit with its contrasting silk tie and pocket square. From the looks of it, Pierce was outside the United Nations. Drones fluttered around the Secretary securing the area as he answered the reporters’ questions.

“The World Security Council has upheld the US Supreme Court ruling. Corporations and Protectorates are now to be considered to have the rights endowed by the Charter of the United Nations. Every Protectorate will now be determined an entity with rights and privileges as any individual. To build a better world, sometimes that means tearing the old one down.”

Tony interrupted the feed. “Shut it off.” He turned to Clint and shook his head. “I have no idea why you would think I’d have any interest in that garbage. Just because you bought into the whole Protectorate as big brother doesn’t mean I did.” It turned his stomach. The whole fucking world fell for the idea of an overlord. What happened to democracy and the will of the people? In his head he heard his father tisking his naiveté. 

His father had grimaced at him, chewing on his cigar. “Democracy fails, son. Get that through your head. People want direction, they look for direction. Look at the history of the world. Do you really think that people would just allow one person to have so much power if it didn’t relieve them of the burden.”

“The burden of what?”

“Freedom, son, freedom.”

Those echoes hurt, stabbed holes in what little optimism Tony had left. He hated the idea of being in his late teens and seeing the world as so bleak and hopeless, but the truth was right in front of him. He couldn’t deny it.

“Thought you might want to pay attention to the guy making the final decisions on Commander Rogers assignments,” Clint said and then scooped up another mouthful of Fruit Loops. 

“The Secretary has a whole helluva lot more important things to do then care about Steve’s assignments.”

“Does he?” Clint finished off his cereal, placed the bowl in the sink, and tapped the small implant on his hand. He had the disc that Steve had embedded in his fingerless gloves actually attached to the palm of his hand. A small holograph appeared. “Looks like it’s time for class, or are you skipping this one too?”

“No,” Tony said. He really needed to keep up with classes or at least make an appearance once in a while. He was getting into a bad habit early in the semester of not giving a shit. “Let me get dressed.”

While Tony dressed, he considered the scant information Clint imparted to him. Pierce caring what Steve Rogers’ assignments were seemed out of place, below his pay grade. But then again, Fury had been directly involved with Steve being assigned as a bodyguard. What did that mean? If they took Steve away, maybe they reassigned him to something else. Something to hide him away? Or something to get rid of him? Maybe they uncovered something from Steve’s past? Did they even know what Steve’s past was? They said he was an Army Captain, but maybe that was just a ruse. He needed more information. Jocasta told him he needed hardware – a bug – on the computers at SHIELD. That wasn’t happening, not anytime soon. There had to be another way. Maybe something a little old fashioned.

By the time he got to class, Tony had reviewed numerous scenarios to get the information he needed, but none seemed viable. In a foul mood, he went to his lab after class with little options. Clint followed him for some reason, setting up shop in the corner of the lab. He pulled out a portable and started working as Tony focused on his clean energy project all the while itching to open up Jocasta’s interface. 

Over the next few days the problem leaked into his every thought. Clint roamed around more frequently, often putting on the SHIELD or Stark Protectorate news. Most of it centered around the new wave of support for Protectorates. It almost felt to Tony as if he watched the dissolution of nation states and personal liberties. His father had told him once that personal liberties and securities were one and the same coin. 

“Sure as a young guy I got into that beatnik crap, but you have to understand Anthony, the difference between freedom of speech and responsible freedom of speech,” Howard had said one afternoon after Tony ranted about the limited sources of news in the Protectorate.

“Freedom of speech is just that, Dad. The freedom to say what I want, when I want,” Tony spat back. He was all of fourteen at the time and filled with spit and vinegar as his grandmother used to say.

“Oh so it’s okay for me to spout about Nazis? Or talk about subjects that are racially provocative?” Howard looked despairingly at Tony. “Son, you don’t understand. You won’t until you’re my age. There’s a difference between freedom of speech and yelling fire in a crowded movie theater. You just can’t do it unless there is a fire.”

“There’s fire all around us. Have you seen what the Protectorate does? Your Protectorate?” Tony recalled that he’d spent time researching the social imperatives that drove the formation of the Protectorates. From Supreme Court Rulings to an incredible imbalance of financial and economic factors. The lopsidedness of the world’s economy and rights toppled over, and the cascade of rights squashed the everyday person. 

“Don’t you get it? We’re trying to protect the world here. It’s not about your precious freedoms anymore. You want to save the world, then you have to build a suit of armor around it. This is just the beginning. Once it’s done, we’ll be so much safer,” Howard said. His words hadn’t been yelled but had been quietly almost maliciously stated. 

“Safer for whom?” Tony had asked. His father never answered him, and now Tony was left with the reverberations of that memory as he thought about the current trends in the world. Protectorates would soon take over, the armors built would be to protect the rich and powerful and slowly starve out the undesirables. Undesirables like Rhodey and Pepper and most probably Steve. At least he knew that Rhodey and Pepper were okay. As for Steve, Tony had no idea at all. 

He longed for escape and Pepper urged him to attend the homecoming events. “It will be fun,” Pepper said one afternoon. “We can go to the Pub.”

“You’re not even MIT. You go to Harvard. Why do you even care?” Tony said as he plopped down on the couch. He had a bowl filled with skittles which he intended to eat all of for dinner. 

“I mean who can’t care with a football team called the Engineers,” Pepper said and snorted – a very unlady like sound. She covered her face with her hand. “I mean how can anyone take them seriously?” She pushed his feet aside and sat down on the couch with him. “I’ll invite you to the Harvard homecoming, but you have to invite me. And T’Challa, he wants to go too.”

“I’m not inviting anyone. I’m not going,” Tony said and told the in house AI, Fuck Face, to turn on the flat screen. Maybe he could watch some old Phineas and Ferb cartoons to melt his brain for a while.

“You really need to go,” Pepper said.

But Tony had already commanded the flat screen to stream cartoons, but as he did a scroll of news crawled across the bottom of the screen. That was one of Clint’s upgrades and Tony didn’t appreciate it. He needed to remove it as soon as possible. 

“What?” Pepper muttered as she stared at the screen. Her shoulders slumped and her rosy cheeks lost all color.

“What?” Tony sat up and read the screen.

_The United Nations has officially recognized the order of the World Security Council in place of the United Nations. The World Security Council made up of Protectorates and some nation states will officially take over as the main global forum for international policy and laws._

Pepper pointed to the screen. “What does-what does that mean?” She met Tony’s gaze and he opened his mouth, but no words or explanations came to him. 

He belayed the order to watch cartoons and shifted over to the news station. The only one he had access to essentially came from either the Stark or the SHIELD Protectorate. The news flashed over the screen; the announcer obviously slanted the information toward the best possible outcome for the Protectorates. 

“Is the United Nations dissolved?” Pepper said. Her gaze glued to the screen. Tony had the settings for flat screen display and not on holographic. He refused to put it on such an invasive presentation considering the subject matter. 

The apartment’s AI answered the question as the information streamed over the screen. “According to the latest reports, the United Nations will close its doors by the end of the decade, giving over all of its duties and responsibilities to the World Security Council.”

“That’s less than five years from now,” she said.

“Secretary Pierce stated that the five year period would allow any countries with corporate sponsorship to set up their own Protectorates in the intervening time. Any country without Protectorates would not be recognized by the WSC.”

“What about states?” Tony asked. “States within the United States that don’t have Protectorates?” Did this mean that the United States was officially breaking apart? Once the Protectorates ruled, what would officially happen to the country?

“Secretary Pierce is in conference with President Ellis. An announcement is expected soon after they complete their talks.”

“I don’t understand,” Pepper said and looked at Tony as if she sought his guidance. “How can the Secretary tell the President what to do. He’s the Secretary of the WSC. The United States’ representative, not the other way around.”

Tony looked at the abandoned bowl of brightly colored candies in his lap and shook his head. “I don’t know, Pep. I really don’t know.” But he knew where to find the information. SHIELD. “But I’m going to find out.” 

Of course, Clint wasn’t around, and Tony queried Fuck Face. It informed him that Agent Barton was on his way to meet with Tony. The whole apartment must be bugged, but then again big brother was watching. Another thing that Tony had to put on his list was to opt out of the Protectorate AI and get his own installed. In only a few minutes, Fuck Face allowed Clint entrance followed by a big blonde guy who looked like he walked out of a Norse myth. He had long hair that he braided which wouldn’t have been as striking if his thick beard wasn’t braided as well. The guy wore a gray hoodie, fingerless gloves, and carried a beer. He finger waved to Tony.

“Who’s this guy?” 

Clint gave him a half smirk. “He’s my real job. Tony meet Thor, Thor meet Tony.”

“Seriously, your name is Thor?” Tony asked as the barbaric looking guy slapped him on the back. It felt like he launched Tony’s lungs out of his chest.

“Good to meet you, Tony. Yes my name is Thor and yes I am a Norse god. Anything else?” Thor sniffled and gulped down the rest of his beer. He smashed the can in one hand and asked, “Any beer?”

Tony glanced between Clint and Thor. “Hmm. No? I’m only eighteen.”

“Ah, a babe. I am five thousand years old.”

“Sure you are,” Tony said. When he looked over to see Pepper’s reaction, he found an empty space. Turning back to Clint he asked, “Since when am I not your real job?”

“Since forever. I was assigned to Thor when he caused a ruckus in Arizona.” 

Thor smiled and winked at Tony – who only gave him a double look and went back to Clint. “What’s he doing here?”

“His girlfriend goes to MIT. He’s staying in the building.” Clint tapped his palm implant. “Anyway, you called?”

“Not technically, but yes,” Tony said. “I need to speak to someone at SHIELD immediately.” 

Clint rolled on the balls of his feet and then dropped back down. “You’re in luck. I’m part of SHIELD-.”

“Fury. I need to speak to Fury,” Tony cut in.

“I don’t think that the Director is going to drop everything now, especially with the newest development with the UN and the WSC. It’s not happening. The SHIELD Protectorate is at the center of this operation.” Clint crossed his arms as Thor wandered off into the kitchen area. Tony nearly followed him but focused on the situation at hand, trying to ignore the clattering and banging.

“Is that why Steve got taken away? So, he could go help you out taking over the world? Is that’s what happening?” Tony said and inwardly chided himself. Way to go with trying to be subtle and find a way to slip in the door. 

Clint grasped Tony’s arm, steered him away from the kitchen and toward his bedroom. Tony yanked his arm away from him, but Clint leaned in and warned, “Some things, no matter how closely you look at them, have to be seen from a distance. Some things are not as they seem.” Clint let him go, straightened his uniform and nodded at Tony. With a glance at the AI interfaces embedded throughout the apartment, Clint added, “The Protectorate is here to protect you, Tony.”

A chill raced up Tony’s spine and he stood stock still as Clint went back to the kitchen area to speak with the big guy. At first, processing the scant data felt like a non-starter. There wasn’t enough information. But that last line, that last piece of information. 

_The Protectorate is here to protect you._

It rang a bell. A loud claxon bell. Tony went to the open living space but stopped short of joining Clint and Thor. Thor was Clint’s official assignment. Being Tony’s bodyguard happened to be an extra assignment that came at a terrible time for SHIELD. SHIELD was probably at the center of the negotiations not only with the United Nations but probably also with President Ellis. They didn’t have the manpower to cover bodyguard duty. They took Tony away from Steve. That meant they were utilizing Steve in a different fashion for a different assignment, even though the agreement between SHIELD and the Stark Protectorate clearly indicated that Tony was a central commodity for Stark. SHIELD promised to protect Tony and Stark promised an exchange of weapons and intelligence in return. SHIELD wasn’t living up to their part of the bargain.

“Shit.”

Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why hadn’t he figured it out? His mind went back to Clint. Seeing better at a distance meant seeing the forest for the trees. He needed to speak with his father and mother. He needed to talk to someone at his own Protectorate. Not a foreign one. He had to start doing this with some intelligence and cunning. He wasn’t playing toddler games anymore. He strode over to the kitchen and announced, “I have some studying to do. Can you leave?”

Thor stopped munching on the last of the cookies and crème pop tarts, but Clint smiled. “Of course. Come on big dude, we need to order pizza.”

“With a salad, please. My mother wants me to eat more salad,” Thor said as Clint shuffled him out of the apartment. With a backward glance at Tony, Clint gave him a salute and closed the door. 

Tony didn’t pause to look for Pepper, or to figure out how to disable the listening devices set up probably all around the apartment. He should have done that a long time ago. He’d been in the apartment a month already. Really, he was ashamed of himself. Instead he went to his room, pulled out his tablet, and requested a call with his parents. It took longer than he wanted to get through to them. Even though he’d tagged it as urgent, they didn’t get back to him until later that evening. He was half considering going into the lab before the alert rang that his father was calling.

In his room, the holograph of his father appeared. Howard must be sitting at his desk in the Protectorate Tower. He looked anything but pleased that his son – his only heir – was calling him. 

“I’m betting you want to come home with your tail between your legs, begging for forgiveness. Your mother thinks you need more money. Which is it?” 

Nice. Tony stopped his immediate response which would have been to curse his father and cut the connection. He straightened his shoulders. He should have prepared a little speech. Howard – for all his bluster – was a brilliant man in his own right. He always ended up throwing Tony off guard. He cleared his throat and addressed his father, “I wanted to ask some questions regarding the bodyguard situation.”

Howard rubbed a hand down his face and banged the desk with his fist. The holographic sensors picked up the reverberations and the sound jolted through the connection. “The bodyguard is not negotiable. I don’t care how far advanced Boston is. It’s Open Class, does not have the infrastructure for all of the smart surveillance devices we need. So no, you can’t get rid of Commander Rogers.”

That answered that question. Tony inwardly smiled but kept his face frozen of expression. “So, he’s supposed to still be here, then?”

“Yes.” Howard stopped and then slowly stood up. “Supposed to? I swear to God, Anthony if I find out that you went ahead and got rid of Commander Rogers without my permission, I am going to have Stane out there to drag your ass back to the Protectorate immediately.”

“I didn’t get rid of him. SHIELD took him away.”

“What?” Even though the Open Class holographic net connection wasn’t up to par with what Tony was used to, he could still see the blood in the arteries in Howard’s neck trying to burst free. Tony swore his father’s eyes might just pop out of his head. “What the hell did you do?”

Tony opened his hands. “I didn’t do anything. Rogers left after a week. Some guy came and took him. I think his name was Rumlow? Left me with a part time bodyguard-.”

“Part time? A month ago? What the fuck?” Howard turned from the sensors in the Tower and called to someone out of sensing range. “Obie, get the hell over here. Fury fucked us over. You stop that shipment immediately until we find out what the hell they are doing in Boston.”

He couldn’t hear Obie’s response. In general, holographic networks were set up not to allow sharing of information beyond a small defined area of visual and audio. He knew his father had the tightest defined area in order to control all incoming and outgoing information. After Howard finished conversing with an unseen and unheard Obie, he turned back to Tony. “First things first, are you safe?”

It shocked the hell out of Tony that Howard actually asked a parentally motivated question and expressed concern for him. “I’m at school – I.” He couldn’t fashion a decent answer, which was good because Howard’s next words slashed any positive impression that his words mustered.

“Because I swear to God, I put too much investment into you to have you get killed now. For God’s sake come home. I’m calling in a jet right now to go and get you. Happy will be there by the morning.” 

That wasn’t at all what Tony intended. “I’m not going anywhere, Dad. I want to stay. I’m just asking you to get the bodyguard situation under control. I thought you knew what you were doing.”

“Don’t you use that tone with me, boy. This is about your safety-.”

Tony cut in, slapping his hands in the air to shut his father down. “No, it isn’t. It’s always been about what I can give you. You know what? I joined a lab that’s about artificial intelligence. I’m working on advancements in energy development. Fuck your weapons.”

“You will not speak to me like that!” Howard howled over the line. Suddenly Obie appeared at his father’s shoulder. He patted Howard on the shoulder.

Obie’s melodious voice softened the tightening of Tony’s chest. “Tony, your father is just concerned. Perhaps you could come back for a few weeks until we get the whole situation with the bodyguard figured out. Was Commander Rogers not working out?”

Tony bit back his retaliatory words for his father and said, “No, I mean yes Rogers was working out just fine. He followed me around like a sick puppy. I couldn’t get rid of him if I wanted to. This new guy, I never see him. He’s like a ghost.” While Tony wanted Rogers back and wanted to know what the hell was going on with SHIELD and the other Protectorates in the world, he hated the idea of getting Barton in trouble. “See, he’s got another guy he’s taking care of. Some guy named Thor. I’m not sure if he’s actually named Thor or not but he’s a big guy. Kind of seems like he could take care of himself.” The rambling babble just flowed out of his mouth. Sometimes he had no control of himself. “So, Clint has this other dude. And I’m just here with Pepper.”

“Pepper? Who is Pepper?” Howard asked.

“Pepper is my girlfriend,” Tony replied because the effort he’d have to expend to explain how Pepper had nowhere else to live seemed too difficult. Howard wasn’t the kind of person who would understand charity, even though he came from nothing. He was a firm believer in libertarian view that you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps and never asked or accepted help from anyone.

But of course, Howard latched onto the girlfriend label. “I thought you were gay,” Howard said. 

Well, at least that answered that question of whether or not his father actually listened to him.

“Bi – I’m still figuring it out,” Tony rushed through the words. He was gay – 100% gay. There wasn’t anything to figure out, but good out straight white dude Howard didn’t need to know that at all. “So, she’s worried because she loves me so. And she’s always throwing herself in front of cars to protect me. And you know they don’t have great smart streets here. I don’t even think our oven is a smart oven. All savage and barbaric if you ask me.” Which was patently not true. His mother had ensured all of the upgrades in the apartment, except for the piss poor AI. He needed to play into their hands. “I don’t want her to be in harm’s way, Dad. I might have to do something – you know dangerous – to protect her.”

“That’s a load of bullshit!” Howard spat.

Obie put his hand up to quiet Howard. “Tony, so this other agent that has been assigned – you’re not his primary assignment?”

“From the looks of it, yes. Plus, Commander Rogers did a risk assessment. A risk assessment, Dad. I think that’s important. Don’t you? I have to be protected, at all costs.” Obie and Howard shared a look and Tony recognized it; he was losing them. “I have an idea for a new weapon. I like to call it the Jericho.”

“Jericho?” 

God, now he was going to have to think up something on the fly. “You know like Joshua fought the battle of Jericho. All the walls came down. Total annihilation kind of thing.” What was he even talking about?

“Do you have plans? Schematics for this new weapon?” Obie asked and his father leaned forward on the desk. They looked like jackals at the feast. 

“Working on it in my spare time, but I can’t get anything done if I don’t feel safe.” He bit his tongue to stop from talking. He always had an issue with overcompensating, trying to convince his father of something. 

“Jericho, huh?” Obie stroked his thick beard and, for a second, Tony saw the indiscriminate villain before him. Obie wasn’t the bad guy – Howard was. Though it didn’t help that Obie looked like a perverse version of Santa Claus. His mother often called Obie – Satan Claus. “Well, we could call up SHIELD. See if we can get a new agent assigned.”

New? He didn’t want to break in a new agent. Rogers – while he’d been a pain in the ass – went out of his way to help Tony allow Pepper to move in. That small act of kindness changed Tony’s view of the Commander. “I think it should be the Commander. I need someone with high qualifications. Someone who knows the importance of this agreement between the Protectorates. Don’t you think?” Let them stew on that for a while.

Howard exhaled – loudly and dramatically. He could be such a diva sometimes. “I agree. I made this agreement with SHIELD on the condition that we only have the very best they have to offer. They said the Commander was a decorated war veteran and a hero. I don’t want just anyone.” Howard turned to Obie. “Tony’s one of our most valuable assets, if SHIELD doesn’t agree to bring Rogers back on the job – Tony comes home.”

“What?” Tony yelped. “No! No! I don’t want to come-.”

“I’ll send you a message once we hear from SHIELD,” Obie said. “Send me the specs on the Jericho.” Without a farewell, Obie flicked the switch and the connection cut.

“Fuck.” That went as planned or kind of did – until it didn’t. All he could hope for now was that SHIELD agreed to get Rogers back on the job. 

A light knock on the door brought him out of his mental self-flagellation. Tony turned to the door of his bedroom to find Pepper peering through the cracked door. She smiled and it felt like an offer, a gift. She slipped inside when he didn’t send her away. She carried two small glass bowls - a scoop of ice cream with whipped cream and cherries on top with sprinkles. No chocolate sauce because Tony couldn’t abide by that fake shit. She placed it on his bedside table and slid onto the bed, sitting on one bent leg. 

“Come to homecoming with me tomorrow. We can go to the parade. You can forget all this. We can forget all this.” 

Tony glanced at the ice cream. “Forget that the world is going to shit? That the Protectorates are really tearing apart the world and everyone seems to be cheering it?”

Pepper picked up the glass bowl with the ice cream and offered it to him. Normally he hated to be handed things, but for Pepper he would do anything. It was hard to believe he’d only known her a month. They synchronized nicely, she read him like a book, and he challenged her when others only saw her as a pretty strawberry blonde. Together they could conquer the world, he thought. If he was straight, he might even think about it but then again why ruin a good thing? 

She spoke between spoonfuls of ice cream. Her words more thoughtful, more strategic than her reaction to the news of the World Security Council and the United Nations. She had time to digest it, analyze it, and summarize the truths coming to light. “People who don’t know history are bound to repeat it. In the early 21st century everything went to crap – people started with the Populist movement, and we know how that ended.”

“War, war, war and more war,” Tony muttered as he stuck the ice cream with his spoon.

“True. And you know why it happened? Because everyone with memories – real visceral memories of World War Two were fading away, disappearing. Dying off. And suddenly it became just a black and white page in the history books. How hard is it for us to commiserate with people who lived back in the days of horse and buggy? We can’t think about it, not really. The word fortnight, we don’t use anymore. But people had to have longer terms for periods of time, two weeks, months, because when they traveled it took that long. We can get anywhere in a day. A day. Now think about Populists and World War I and World War II. Pretty damned scary.” When she finished her history lesson, she scooped up a big spoonful of her chocolate ice cream to eat.

“So what lessons have we forgotten this time?” Tony asked as he tasted the Cherry Garcia ice cream. 

“Tons. This is a major setback. Think about it. We’re going from the swing toward global community back to city states. It’s not good. We’re going feudal in some ways. Where economic centers are becoming the normalized government. Corporations are controlling life – that’s exactly like what happened in feudal times just less serfs and more smart surveillance stuff now.” She licked her spoon. 

“You’re not very comforting, you know,” Tony commented. The cherry on top of his ice cream plummeted to the bottom of the bowl. “What happens to the Constitution? To everything we’ve built? You know, the American dream?”

She laughed, but it hurt to hear. It didn’t sound like joy, it abraded the air. “The American Dream has been dead for ages, Tony. It’s a fairy tale they tell kids in schools, propaganda. The Constitution might as well be burned with the Protectorates. Did you know I heard that the Open Class areas of the US are discussing putting together their own Protectorate – a kind of anti-Protectorate.” She glanced around his room and winced. “Shouldn’t have said that here, should I?”

The surveillance devices. Shit.

“That reminds me.” He set aside the ice cream and spent the new few hours reconfiguring the inhouse AI. It took him into the night to accomplish the task, but downloading his own AI – not Jocasta – and sequestering Fuck Face so the Protectorate didn’t know it wasn’t truly surveilling anymore was a multi-layered, multi-step process. 

As he stood on a step ladder, half in and half out of the ceiling doing the final wiring for the new AI – Friday - Pepper came up to him. “I finished your ice cream.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“You owe me.”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s go to the parade. It’ll be fun. I need to forget all of this. I need to go to the Pub and just dance.” Pepper quirked a smile at him and then popped one of the two cherries into her mouth. “I heard you say I was your girlfriend, you know.”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want my father to try and get rid of you,” Tony said. He should feel guilty but truly he only wanted to get out of his current situation, which he couldn’t even explain. 

“Well, if I’m your fake girlfriend you owe me a date.” Pepper winked at him. “I want to go to the Pub and the parade. Come on, if you’re going to use me to cover your crush on Steve then you have to take me out.”

“I don’t have a crush on Steve,” Tony said. “I just didn’t like that look he gave me when he left, telling me good luck on my studies. It was just wrong.” 

“I get you, Tony. I just think we need a break. I want to forget where we’re going. It feels like we’re on a runaway train with-.”

“Without any engineers to run the thing?” Tony finished.

Pepper set her empty ice cream bowl aside. “No, I was going to say with madmen as engineers.”

He couldn’t deny her. Plus, the fact that the world just might be burning all around them in a slow and steady conflagration might be reason enough to go out and forget everything that was happening. He’d seen it on campus a kind of zombie like state to the students and faculty as the world contorted and changed in front of them without any way to stop it. Sure, there had been whispers in hallways and harried looks in the Stratt. The world surrendered without a shot. What would become of the Open Class, the states without Protectorates, the countries like Wakanda resistant to Protectorates? 

A fog settled across the campus that had nothing to do with the fast approaching first day of Autumn. They’d been walking the path toward disaster since the dawning of the Protectorate. Maybe it started with Citizen United, but maybe even before that with the Patriot Act. The United States teetered on collapse toward feudalism and the weight of it crushed Tony. 

On the eve of Homecoming, Tony broke down and agreed to go to the Pub to at least draw out some of the poison contaminating him from the news. Pepper jumped up from the couch and clapped. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

It didn’t take long to get ready. Tony had just returned from lab and he slung his satchel on the chair. He opened his hands and said, “Ready when you are.”

Luckily the evening was warmer than mid-September. Pepper wore a hoodie over her t-shirt and her jeans. Tony mimicked her outfit and they looked like two peas in a pod. Clint drove them to the Pub and dropped them off in front of the establishment with Thor. Tony glanced up and down at the big guy who bounced up and down on his heels. Thor swung his arms and grinned, showing his teeth. 

“Very grateful for the invitation to this coming home party.”

Tony shifted his eyes to Pepper and she only grimaced in return. He cursed Clint under his breath. He suspected that Clint sent Thor along to be an extra bodyguard. Like who would even approach them with a huge Norse god hovering around them. If Tony ever wanted to get laid this was not going to work out. 

“Are you a student here?” Pepper asked as they went to enter the Pub.

Thor shook his head. “No. My girlfriend, Jane, is a graduate student here. She works in a theoretical physics laboratory. One day she will discover the Einstein-Rosen bridges.”

“Wormholes as a special solution to Einstein’s field equations that I don’t think will actually hold up,” Tony said as Clint joined them and they entered the Pub. 

Thor smiled down at Tony as if he was appreciating the babble of a toddler. “You forget, my little man, general relativity is on Jane’s side.”

Tony mouthed to Pepper, “Little man?”

When they entered the Pub though any further deep conversations were cut off but the throbbing beat of the music. This wasn’t a Pub but more of a Rave party. The entire floor of the Pub oscillated up and down with the beat of the music. Of course, they walked in just as Prince’s 1999 blasted. The song seemed perfect for Tony’s mood. 

“Party like it’s 1999.” A million years ago. 

“What does that even mean?” Pepper yelled over the noise and music. 

“I will retrieve beers from the keeper of the bar!” Thor announced and then jostled his way through the crowd. 

“Everyone thought the world was going to end in 1999,” Tony answered but didn’t explain further. He really didn’t think Pepper cared about the computer idiocrasies and technobabble at the moment. She accepted his superficial response and then Thor was there, putting large mugs of beer in their hands. Tony winked as he took a gulp. 

Pepper, bless her heart, said nothing about his underage status. The music changed and it all seemed to center around the end of the world or death, but with a firm beat. Everyone in the Pub moved with the music, pounding and swinging. The zombie students transformed to partying fools. Tony liked it. He downed the beer much to Thor’s enjoyment. He slapped Tony on the back, causing him to stagger forward.

“Another?” Thor asked.

Tony grabbed the rail of the bar and nodded. Thor called the bartender over and another beer was in Tony’s hand within minutes. The beat of the music vibrated through the floorboards and rattled in his chest. He watched as the mob undulated, each wave a desperate attempt, a defibrillator against the arrest of society. He saw it, witnessed, and felt the same helplessness. He downed the beer, the haze of alcohol heady and welcome as the nihilistic music played an anthem for the times. 

At some point, Thor drifted away from the spot at the bar Tony occupied. Pepper was lost in the throng of people and he found himself dancing with one nameless person after another. One woman – much older with wrinkles on her face and a tired helpless look in her eyes – kissed him while they dance, a tongue stuck down his throat. He pushed her away and thankfully she took it as the no it was. She shrugged and gave him an air kiss while she began to dance by herself. It didn’t take long for Tony to find another partner. This one was a hefty male with thick arms and a neck that’s too large for his head. He smiled at Tony with an unabashed gaze of appreciation. The night was young, and Tony was stupid. He allowed the guy to stick his hands in Tony’s back pockets and they danced too slowly for the music. 

The music was too loud to exchange any words. Tony imagined the guy would sound rough, maybe a little less educated than Tony. Part of him didn’t mind. He wasn’t an elitist he told himself as the guy got closer, holding him so that he ground his groin up against Tony. In the back of his brain, a voice warned him, told him of his vulnerability. There were risks. There was an assessment. People were after Tony. But then Tony scanned the room and spotted Clint to the side with a drink in his hand and eyes on him. It couldn’t be too bad. So he banished the voices and just let the mood and the feeling flow over him, a wash of emotion both primal and frightening at the same time. 

Once the song ended, though, the big guy saluted him and left. Tony stood on the dance floor a little too long as the music started up again. He shoved his way through the crowd, looking for his party. Thor wouldn’t be too hard to find considering his size. Another guy – by the looks of him a football player or a wrestler – swung into Tony’s orbit and asked him to dance. Tony accepted the invite and he spent the next three dances on the floor with football guy. He was athletic in every way. His body was sculpted, and his nipples stuck out on his too tight shirt. Tony could drink him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still want more. After the third dance, his partner pointed to the bar. Tony nodded.

They ended up with drinks and found their way to a corner. Football guy introduced himself as Tiberius or Ty or something – maybe Tyler. Tony was not sure. Tony learned that Ty wasn’t an athlete at all, in fact he introduced himself as a post-doctoral fellow in at MIT. As they talk, Ty kept making sure Tony’s drink never went dry. Vaguely Tony thought about how nice it would be to have someone always willing to keep him in liquor. Tony must say something out loud because Ty promised to keep him in all the liquor he wanted.

“If you promise,” Ty said and flicked an eyebrow.

“Promise what?” Tony leaned closer because it was so fucking hard to hear. 

Ty answered but Tony lost the response again. He grimaced and then thumbed it behind him. Tony glanced but couldn’t really make out what he was indicating. The strobe lighting made it impossible to see beyond the dance floor. Ty grabbed his hand, put the drink on the small table, and then hauled Tony into the back of the bar. The music grew distant but not silent as they hustled through the narrow hall, passing the men’s and women’s rooms.

“This way,” Ty said and tugged on Tony’s hand. 

In retrospect a part of Tony saw it as an adventure. The alcohol numbed his inhibitions and his addled brain saw only the thrill and excitement of the moment. Not the consequences, it never saw the assessment, the risks, the potential threats. Before Tony knew it, Ty led him through a thick rusted metal door, and they were outside in the alley way behind the pub. Ty had him up against the cold wet brick of the building – it must have been raining. Everything was wet. Tony was standing in a puddle. Ty had his tongue down Tony’s throat and a hand pressing on his sternum, so hard and so forceful it hurt. 

Tony wiggled a bit, trying to dislodge the hand from his chest. Ty pulled back, leered at Tony and said, “Knew you’d like it a little rough.”

“No.” Tony placed a hand on Ty’s chest and firmly shoved, but the older student was like a rock, unmovable. 

“Come on,” Ty hissed. His hand snaked down to Tony’s zipper. “I’ll do you; you do me.”

“No, I don’t think so.” The press of Ty so close, the walls of the alley so dark and confining crushed inward and gripped onto Tony so that he only wanted out.

“You know you want me to. Come on, now. What’s the harm?” Ty bent over Tony, leering at him. 

“The harm is that he said no.”

Both Tony and Ty snapped to attention at the voice. Silhouetted in the light from the main street, a man stood. His tall frame and wide shoulders recognizable instantly to Tony. He walked slowly into the light. His eyes were dagger bright, piercing in their focus on Ty. His usually clean-shaven jaw was obscured by a month’s growth of beard. A star on the center of his chest caught the small light outside the backdoor of the pub.

“Steve!” Tony said. Something tense and wound too tight under his sternum relaxed a degree. Ty staggered a few steps away as Tony squirmed out of his clutches. “It’s goddamned nice to see you.” He breathed out the relief that balled in his chest like a fist of barbed wire. 

“Tony,” Steve said with a small smile, but it faded immediately as he turned back to Ty. “And what about you? Did you have something to say?”

Ty glanced between them. By Tony’s estimate Ty was probably a few years older than Steve. For a second Tony thought that Ty might challenge Steve. He was older, but not bigger by a long shot. But he did have the advantage that he probably knew the area better than Steve – though he had no idea about that little factoid. Also, Tony noticed Ty touching a hand on his pant’s pocket. Did he have a knife? A gun? Tony chewed at his lip.

“A – Ty, meet my bodyguard, Commander Steve Rogers.”

“Ha! Like Captain America?” Ty laughed and Steve went a little red, off balanced – that wasn’t good. For a second Tony saw that faraway look pass over his features. Even from this distance which had to be about 3 meters Tony glimpsed the glossiness of Steve’s gaze as if the words triggered one of his repressed memories. 

“Steve!” Tony yelped to jerk him out of his state. 

It worked and Steve’s hardline stare glowered at Ty. “Son, I think you need to watch your step.”

“Son? You fucking freak. You actually believe you’re that patriotic old geezer. You know he’s dead. Downed a plane in the ocean,” Ty scowled at Steve as if the idea of Captain America gave him heartburn. “Why don’t you take your little act and mind your own goddamned business.”

Standing there stunned by the verbal altercation, Ty surprised Tony by latching onto his collar and yanking him toward the back of the alley as if he intended to continue his advances. Advances was an innocent enough word. It wasn’t assault, was it? Tony didn’t feel assaulted, but maybe he was about to be. He glanced at Steve, who’s intense focus on Ty hadn’t wavered. 

“I think you should take your hands off of him,” Steve said. He took a step toward them. Ty – why did he do it – sneered at Steve.

“I think you should mind your own business. We’re on a date,” Ty lied. Tony shook his head, but Ty tightened his grip. “You want to have some stick in the mud from SHIELD – yeah I recognize the type – tell you who you can see? Who you can be with?” 

Nothing deterred Steve. He came like a battering ram at Ty. Before Tony could piece together the action, Steve slammed into Ty, removed his first from Tony’s collar, and shoved the oaf against the brick wall. Steve’s nostrils flared and Tony felt the tremble of his muscles as he physically restrained himself from hurting Ty.

“I think it’s time to have a serious conversation about the word consent.” Steve gave Ty a little jolt into the brick wall. He punctuated every word as he spoke. “Do. You. Know. The. Definition. Of. Consent?”

Ty struggled, or tried to but Steve held him with one hand. The amazing part was that Steve was restraining himself, stopping himself from using his full force. Tony saw it in his stance, in his muscles as they rippled under his uniform, in the quake of his body as he held onto Tony. 

Through gritted teeth, Steve asked again, “Consent. Do you know what it means?”

Ty grappled with Steve’s one hand at his collar. “I do. Fuck. Stop it. Get your fucking dog off of me.”

Steve gripped Ty harder. Tony could see the white of his knuckles against the dim light in the alley. “Consent means permission. Active permission. No does not mean consent. Do you understand?”

Ty grimaced and then closed his eyes. He opened them and with a growl, said, “Yes, fuck I understand. Now let me the fuck go.”

It took a second too long, but Steve finally released him. Ty stumbled to the wet pavement. All the time the rain soaked them, and Tony had never even noticed. Never even noticed that Steve had been literally holding Ty centimeters off the ground. Ty glowered at Tony and then shouldered his way past them. 

“You fucking stay away from me, you understand?” Ty spat and then he yanked the club door open and stomped inside. The metal door slammed shut with a resounding thud.

Tony stared at the door for at least thirty seconds before he said, “So. You’re back.”

“Yep.”

“Still don’t know who you are.”

“No clue.”

“Beard?”

“Nat said I needed it for an undercover op.”

Tony looked at Steve. “You went on an undercover op?” 

A flicker of pained confusion crossed Steve’s features and then he scratched his beard. “You mind if we go back to the apartment. This thing itches something fierce.”

“You’re going to shave it off?”

Steve nodded. He turned on his heel and headed toward the street. Tony looked behind him, thought about Pepper and Thor still in the pub. He should go and get them before he followed Steve like a lost duckling. If he didn’t follow Steve, the man was apt to shave off that magnificent beard. A beard that could do so many deviously nice things. Tony needed to get his head out of the gutter. 

Steve stopped at the exit to the alley. “Are you coming?”

“Pepper.” He gestured to the pub. “I came with Pepper.”

“Let’s get you to the car and I’ll ask Clint to bring her out if she wants to leave. If not, Clint can bring her home,” Steve said. Business – everything was back to business with Steve. No – hello how are you? No, what’s been going on since I left? No, the SHIELD Protectorate and your daddy are up to no good. Nothing.

Tony trudged behind Steve, only a stride or two. The rain poured down in a blinding rage. Tony should be happy; Steve was back and that meant he won. But what did he win? Steve guided him to the car and got him into the backseat. He offered him a towel – from where Steve retrieved it – Tony couldn’t fathom. In seconds, Steve took the front seat.

“Got a text from Clint. Pepper is staying.” He shifted the car into gear and started the drive home. 

By the time they drove into the garage and headed to the elevator, the silence that settled over them felt like a thick film sealing Tony off from the rest of the world. Having Steve as his bodyguard again hadn’t been something that Tony thought about beyond the moment of getting him back. Now, with Steve back in tow, Tony had to withstand the consequences. Risk assessment meant that Steve would keep him under a strict thumb. What the hell was Tony thinking?

In the elevator, Tony noticed the duffle bag that Steve clutched in his hand. “Back for good this time or are they going to come again?”

“Back for good.” Steve stared at the doors of the elevator. “Because of you.” He turned, a high rose of color on his cheeks. “Thank you, Tony. I really believe in this mission, in protecting you. Here, with you. It’s where I belong.”

Tony stood there, shocked, mouth agape. 

Steve gave him a tentative smile. 

The words clogged, stuck somewhere below his breastbone as if he’d swallowed down his sour thoughts about the situation. “You’re welcome?” Tony managed to force out of his throat. 

The smile grew more confident. The doors to the elevator opened and they went to the apartment. After accessing the lock panel, Steve walked into the apartment and then turned to Tony. “Thank you, Tony. Really.”

Stunned into silence Tony chewed on his words again. He pointed to the master bedroom when Steve went to the couch in the living room area. “You can put your stuff in my closet. Sleep in the master bedroom. Like we planned.” His own voice sounded far away. 

Again Steve smiled, the high color to his cheeks and the soften stance of his shoulders told Tony more than he could parse. The smallest action by Tony to get Steve back signified something profound and meaningful to Steve. What, Tony couldn’t know. But he wanted to know. On some fundamental level, Tony yearned to tease apart of the mystery of Commander Rogers, he wanted to study him, find him, and somehow know him. 

Inwardly, as Steve brought his duffle bag into the bedroom, Tony vowed he would discover just who Steve Rogers really was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. I am hoping to get back to my rotation of updating my WIPs! So expect more updates and more frequent.

Scott Lang was a likable guy, affable, goofy, kind of sweet. If Tony didn’t know the guy was straight, he’d be hitting on him all the way to Sunday, but alas he had a girlfriend – Hope – who happened to be a lot more sensible than Scott. When Hope came around the lab – which wasn’t often since she actually lived and went to school in California – Scott got all googly eyed and nearly turned into a beagle puppy following her around with happy moans every now and again. Okay, Tony made that last part up. Hope visited over a long weekend at the end of October and Scott – one of Pym’s newest graduate students – moped around the lab for a week once she left.

Thus, the reason Tony had been kidnapped to sit in the Stratt while Scott nursed his hot cocoa and Tony hunched over his coffee. “She hates me. I know she does.”

Tony rolled his eyes and glanced at Steve, who stood off to the corner of the café with his gaze outward. “Why would you say that?” Tony threw him a bone; every puppy needed a bone once in a while.

“Why wouldn’t she want to stay longer. I know, I know. She decided to go to Berkley. Goody for her. But I – I should have gone to school out there, but then I wouldn’t have had a chance to work with Pym. He’s brilliant, don’t you think?”

Tony gave a non-committal response. Scott droned on as he nodded and made little hmm noises every now and again. Instead of listening to the dire warnings of young adult love, Tony watched the Commander. He wore his SHIELD Protectorate bodyguard uniform; his hands were in those ridiculous fingerless gloves. Steve kept his right thumb tucked inside his palm as if he awaited an alert from the embedded chip in the glove. Why did he have it in the glove and not his palm? From what Tony observed Clint had the chip for risk assessment embedded under the skin of his palm. Steve didn’t. Maybe he was a purist. Tony’s parents had always been purists – they dismissed the idea of human-cyborg augmentation. Most of the augmentations these days were simple – id implants, etc. Other more elaborate ones were tried about a decade ago, but they went horribly wrong.

“You know what I mean? She’s the love of my life,” Scott said and waited for some validation by Tony.

“Not sure, Scott.” Tony sipped his coffee. “I’ve never been in love.”

“Oh God! That’s terrible.” Scott launched into an explanation of the wonders of love and especially as he called it world stopping, universe changing, paradigm shifting love of his life kind of love. 

Tony kept up appearances, nodding at all the right times and drinking his coffee. His gaze wondered to Steve again. It had been over a month since Steve came back. If Tony had to use one word to describe the last few weeks – it would be uneasy. While Tony admitted that he’d only known Steve for a short period of time prior to his retrieval by the SHIELD Protectorate, the way that he acted after his return tightened the muscles of Tony’s neck and back. While Tony was Steve’s main and only priority something was wrong. From eating to sleeping, Commander Steve Rogers was pre-occupied with something. 

Sleeping had been especially weird and challenging. Since Tony asked Steve to share his master bedroom with him because Pepper had the second bedroom of his apartment, Steve refused to share the massive king-sized bed. In fact, after the first night when he slept curled on an easy chair near the corner of the bedroom, Steve brought a sleeping bag and a pillow into the master bedroom the second night and unrolled it near the sliding glass doors to the balcony. He announced in his official Commander Rogers voice that he would sleep in front of the balcony in case any intruders might think to break into the apartment through the sliding glass doors. 

Tony had argued his case. “That’s insane.”

“It’s the best way to ensure your safety.” Those words were stated sincerely, but then he added as if he was trying to convince Tony. “And that’s what I’m here for.” Part of his tone sounded as if he was desperate for Tony to accept him, for Tony to want him there. 

Tony hadn’t answered. He stared at the Commander as he settled onto the floor, sighing and quieting fairly quickly. The dark of the room didn’t dissuade Tony from watching his guardian. Light streaming in through the sliding glass doors made it obvious that the Commander was only feigning sleep. He laid there with his eyes open, staring into the night. Every night Tony watched him until he was too tired not to sleep himself. 

“What do you think about Pym and the new post-doc he took on?” Scott asked as Tony jarred himself out of his thoughts.

Tony managed to delay his response by sipping the coffee. “Don’t know. Don’t know anything about him, her, they? No idea.”

“Oh he’s – it’s a guy prefers male pronouns - I asked. Hope always is telling me I have to be more open to gender classifications and what people prefer so I asked. I thought he was going to punch me in the face. But he’s supposed to be super smart.” Scott paused, maybe to take a much-needed breath, but then started again right away. “Probably not as smart as you, but he seems to know his stuff. He’s building stuff. Engineering but not. I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Building stuff?” Tony scrunched up his face. He needed to get back to the lab, Scott had a tendency to hang out all day at the Stratt and then work all night which Tony wasn’t adverse to at all, but he promised Pepper he’d go to yet another party with her. It was some kind of going away party and she begged him. Since the announcement by the United Nations, Pepper had been really rattled, Tony felt obligated to take care of her since she had done the same for him more than once since they met. It was hard to think that they only met a few months ago. 

Scott rambled on – he might have been talking about ants but Tony didn’t know. Standing, he tugged on his leather jacket and said, “I gotta go Scott. Lots of stuff to do. You know, worlds to conquer and all that.”

“Oh yeah, heard about the Stark Protectorate and stuff,” Scott said with a languishing wave. Tony glared at the back of his head as he started away. 

In seconds, Steve took up the space next to Tony as he hurried away. The Commander had a tell that Tony only recently noticed; a small clenching of his jaw. It only appeared when frustration or anger boiled beneath the surface. 

“What got you hyped up?” Tony asked as he adjusted the computer bag on his shoulder. You would think with those massive shoulders and muscles the guy would offer to carry his bag, but then again they weren’t dating. Tony’s father was literally paying the SHIELD Protectorate for the privilege of renting Steve. “Skip that part. Do they pay you?”

Steve did a double take. “Yes.”

“How much? Because I’m sure it’s a fraction of what the Stark Protectorate is paying.” Tony turned around and walked backward as he spoke. “I bet it’s nothing compared to the total price.”

“I get a stipend,” Steve answered. “It’s not really any of your business.” 

Tony thought otherwise but he decided to stay quiet. It’s all part of the bigger puzzle. Bigger mystery of who Steve Rogers really was. Steve sped up to walk abreast of Tony as they made it over to his lab. Tony studied him as surreptitiously as he could. The little tic in his jaw jumped and twitched. 

“Listen, you want to go to the library or something, you can. I’m just going to be in my lab.” It wasn’t a test, but Tony watched for the reaction. 

Frustration and the tic appeared. Steve came to a halt, Tony swung around and stopped as well. “I am not leaving you. I left you once and you were accosted by an ape. No. This is where I belong. I know it.” He looked to the distance as if something played out in his head. Something horrible and fearful because a fleeting look came over his features as if he’d seen a ghost.

Tony snapped fingers in front of his face. “Hey zombie man, come back to me. You look like you’re phasing out. What is up with you lately?”

Steve only grumbled a reply and started toward Tony’s lab again. If Tony had to guess, he’d bet Steve remembered something – something a little disturbing and confusing. Tony frowned, tossing the mystery into the backseat. With his assignments piling up and Pym working him over time on the artificial intelligence, the case of Steve Rogers’ origin would have to wait. 

As they opened the lab door, Tony was in mid-sentence explaining the technology of AI when they both stopped dead in their tracks. Tony’s mentor, Hank Pym, stood in the center of the lab talking with the new post-doctoral fellow. Steve went rigid and only held back because Tony put a hand in front of him. 

“Oh good!” Pym clapped his hands. “You’re here. I wanted to introduce you to Tiberius Stone, our new post-doctoral fellow. He’ll be working with us part time since he’s on a collaborating grant. Some work I’m doing with Richards over at the new protectorate – can’t remember its name now. But you remember him, Reed, tall lanky fellow.”

Tony forced the words out of his mouth. “We already met.”

Steve stepped in front of Tony. “Sir, I will have to protest.” Tony tried to push Steve out of the way but moving him felt like pushing aside a wall. “This man accosted Mister Stark, a prominent member and heir to the Stark Protectorate. I cannot allow him to be in the same building let alone the same lab as Mister Stark.” 

Tony scowled. He peered over Steve’s shoulder to gauge Pym’s reaction. The older man took the accusations seriously – the Stark name held weight all over the world. The Stark Protectorate struck fear in some hearts, as his father wished.

Pym turned to Ty. “Can you explain?”

Pym rifled a hand through his hair and managed to look abashed. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was out of my mind drunk.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I take full responsibility. I will never get that drunk again, ever. I promise. I am so sorry. Commander Rogers, is it? I apologize and I also thank you for stopping me. It would have ruined me, and I am thankful you stopped me. I am ashamed.”

 

“Ruined you? What about what you did to Tony? What you nearly did? Are you ashamed because it might have ruined your reputation or are you ashamed of your actions?” Steve snarled out. The tic was in full motion now.

Ty held up his hands. “I am ashamed that I even did that. I am especially mortified that I threatened Tony in any way. Believe me when I say to you, it disgusts me.”

Steve studied Ty as if he burrowed down into his soul to reveal the truth of what the man spoke. Though he didn’t seem satisfied with what he discovered, Steve nodded. “Tony? How do you feel about working along side Mister-.”

“Doctor,” Stone interrupted.

Steve refused to correct himself and maybe Tony swooned a little at his stubbornness on his behalf. “Tony?”

“Well,” Tony said as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

Ty stood slightly to the side and behind Pym. He pleaded with Tony silently as Steve threw daggers with his eyes. Tony waved it off. “Yeah, sure. Who cares? Right? I accept your apology.”

“And you can keep your attack dog around any time,” Ty said. Tony thought Steve might actually growl at him. Ty laughed, a nervous twitter of a sound. “Sorry, no harm intended. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Keep your day job,” Steve snarled. 

Ty backed up as Steve moved into the lab. Tony ignored them both and decided to unload himself of his heavy bag. Pym must have seen this as an opening. “Well, do you think you could work together on the AI and Pym particles? Ah yes Tony, I see by the way you’re surprised, you didn’t expect me to task you with Pym particle work. But I think you are the right person. You and Scott and Ty. Tony, is there a way you could catch Ty up on the work?”

Tony considered the request. It meant he probably wouldn’t have time to work on his arc reactor because with the class assignments, the AI project, the mythical Jericho bomb he made up on the fly that he now has to invent for his father and Stane; there just wasn’t enough time in the schedule. “Yeah. Okay. I can do it.”

“Great. Remember, lab meeting will be at 4 pm tomorrow. I want to see a proposal for AI interface with the Pym particles. The data is on the computer.” Pym waved to them and nearly ran into Scott as he ducked out of the lab. 

Tony grit his teeth. “I’m not doing the interface,” he muttered. Another thing on the list. “Have to figure this fucking thing out now.” He wouldn’t have time for Pepper’s party tonight. 

“Listen, Tones – can I call you Tones? I mean I really am sorry,” Ty said. “Tones, let me give you a hand in this, okay? To make it up?”

Tony eyed him while Scott loitered around the periphery. Tony knew that Steve took a seat near the window. He had a little tablet out as he typed away on it – so quaint. Tony let his defenses down a bit. “Okay. Tell me how you can help? What’s your degree in?”

“Business administration.”

“What the-?” Tony gulped down his words. “How the hell are you supposed to help me?”

Ty chuckled. “It’s not like that. I got a degree in Business Administration, then got a Masters in Technology Transfer. I got my doctorate in the Advanced Technology Administration and Implementation. Also, I minored in Systems Engineering in undergrad.” Scott stupidly decided to whistle like Ty’s resume was something to applaud. Tony rolled his eyes. “I can help.”

“What are you doing here as a post-doc?” Tony liked it better when Pym stayed closed mouthed about the Pym particles. 

“I’m here to help the boss figure out how to commercialize the Pym particles. It’s my idea to use it in conjunction with AI.” Ty looked like he might burst from pride. Tony wanted to laugh in his face, but that seemed pretty rude.

“Well, it’s not going to happen overnight. I usually don’t work on Pym particles. Up until a few days ago, Hank wasn’t interested in anyone else working on the particles. Scott here just started as a lab rotation grad student.” Tony indicated Scott who looked like a deer in headlights about 95% of the time. Tony sighed. Having Pym with the idea that the particles and AI might work together invited danger to the whole scenario. Once Pym got an idea in his head, he rarely let it go – like a dog with a bone. He needed to nip anything happening like this again in the bud. 

“Okay, here’s how this works.” Tony leaned over to Ty and Scott. “No one floats an idea to Pym without clearing it with me first.” Before they could protest, Tony put his hands up. “Scott you might be a first year like me, but really you aren’t like me at all. So, listen to me and get with the program. You.” Tony pointed to Ty. “Know nothing about anything important. So, if you want to make headway here you have to listen to me.”

Ty’s face reddened and he glowered at Tony. For a second all the air in the room disappeared and Tony thought Ty might push him up against a wall again. Instead, Ty exhaled and nodded. “Hey, I’m here to make a name for myself. So, if I can ride the back of Tony Stark, I’m ready to ride.” He winked at Tony. 

Tony ignored him and shifted his attention to Steve, who still sat by the window with his tablet, though he had abandoned it to focus on them. This wasn’t going to be easy. Pym threw him to the wolves. The best way to deal with the whole situation? Not deal with it at all. Instead, Tony went to the wall of computers with both Scott and Ty trailing after him. He logged in and started to flash through all of the data Pym finally shared with him concerning the precious Pym particles. Neither Scott nor Ty spoke as Tony reviewed the data. As he worked, he glanced over his shoulder and noted that Steve settled down, even though he never took his eyes completely off Tony. 

Somehow it made Tony feel better.

Soon, Tony assigned Scott to evaluate the consistency of the Pym particles. Each batch seemed to have a large deviation in angstroms and that caused varying degrees of success. It also led to some strange bursts in what Pym liked to call field energy. Tony couldn’t make any sense out of the data or notes. 

“Since your thesis centers on the Pym particles now, I suppose,” Tony spoke to Scott. “Can’t believe the old coot finally decided to do something about this great invention of his.” Tony couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone out of his voice. “I think you’re going to have to deal with this data. I need you to tell me how consistent the particles are. We can’t study their behavior if they vary so much that they end up with different characteristics dependent on size.” 

“Got it, boss.” Scott found a chair and started furiously working through the data. Tony frowned at the back of his head but gestured for Ty to walk with him.

“So, you have some Systems Engineering in your skillset?” Tony asked as he started to work on the second set of computers in the lab specifically for the AI project. “You understand open architecture design and technical data and implementation plans.”

Ty nodded and bit his lower lip. “Yeah.”

It didn’t sound like a ringing endorsement. Tony forged ahead anyway. “Our main concern then about the AI is who it will integrate with the Pym particles. Our question will be what can the Pym particles do for the AI and vice versa. Get it?”

“Yeah, I do.” Ty furrowed his brow. “I can map out what enabling products we might need but first I really need to get an idea of what the need is, what the requirements are.”

“Our requirements really are to find out what the hell Hank wants to do with these little buggers and how it fits in with the AI I designed,” Tony said. “So-.”

“We really need to know what the hell Pym particles do.”

“They shrink things.”

Tony had expected someone to answer the question – that someone should have been Scott. But it wasn’t. It was Steve – Commander Steve Rogers of the SHIELD Protectorate – a glorified babysitter without his memory – responded. Everyone turned and looked at Steve. Tony put down the pencil he’d been tapping on the lab bench to keep his nervous energy at bay. 

“What did you say?” Tony stared at Steve, really looked at him. His gaze jumped to his jaw, to see if the tick flickered – but no, he was stone cold. 

“Pym particles shrink things, really tiny. Like microscopic.” Steve stood up, rotated his shoulders as if he was readying for a fight. “They shrink things. Tiny.” 

“Pym particles shrink things?” Scott said and he was into the idea, talking about how fun it would be to run around in a train set and all Tony could think of was the Thomas the Tank Engine he had as a kid.

He scowled and studied Steve. “What the hell? How do you know?”

Steve lifted a shoulder. “Don’t know. Must have overheard it. Why wouldn’t your mentor tell you?” 

That was a whole other story. “He was trying to manipulate what he calls the quantum realm. He wanted to figure out if he could manipulate the space between elemental particles. He can’t figure it out.”

Steve smirked -actually smirked at Tony. He settled back on the stool and, quirked his brow and said, “He will. Or more importantly, you will.” 

“What the hell?” Ty said and turned to Tony for an explanation. 

“SHIELD, spies, what do I know?” Tony offered. “Let’s get back to work then.” 

It surprised Tony that Ty was actually quite intelligent, while he might not understand the dynamics of Pym particles or even AI, he had a keen sense of technology and the integration of systems. He followed along easily enough and even assisted in their plans for testing the Pym particles.

They spend most of the afternoon reviewing the data that Hank finally decided to share with them. After a long silence, Scott asked, “Just don’t know how he wants you to link this data up with AI.”

“It’s a test,” Tony said. “Hank’s always trying to distract me, get me to do what he wants instead of what I want.”

“Or it’s that he wants to understand AI by using Pym particles,” Ty said. “What if he wants to somehow use the particles to manipulate AI so that it takes on more human like qualities.”

“I’m not sure how that would work. I think we need a biochemist.” Tony racked his head for a biochemist that would be interested in their work. “There’s Betsy Ross. She’s that Ross, just so you know. But I think she could be helpful.”

Ty smiled. “I can hunt her down, see if we can skype with her about it.”

Scott interrupted, “I’m not sure why we need a biochemist. This is AI and particles – doesn’t really have anything to do with biology. Plus, I’m a chemist.”

“Hank wants to have the AI mimic human consciousness. To do that, we need to know how that works,” Tony said. “Plus, you’re not the kind of chemist we need.” 

Scott pouted at that but stayed quiet. As they worked, Tony frequently glanced up at Steve. He sat there vigilant but also distant. An anomaly. How the hell did lost boy know anything about Pym particles. It had to be SHIELD. Tony desperately wanted to ditch the rest of the work for the day and dig into hacking the SHIELD Protectorate, discover the mystery of who the Commander really was.

It took far too long in Tony’s book to get out of the lab – which was a miracle itself. Tony always wanted to be in lab, but not now, not with Steve’s reveal. Ty was amicable enough, even asked Tony out on a real date, apologizing again. Tony said he’d have to check his schedule and left the lab with a wink and wave. Ty seemed charmed by it, Scott a little lost overall. Of the two, Scott was the one to wink back. That served to irritate Tony and he had to wonder if Scott did it on purpose. The guy was smart but tended to have absolutely no common sense. 

Regardless of the topic area, his companion remained mute all the way back to the apartment building. It felt as if electricity tripped off him and burnt the air around them. Tony swore he smelled ozone. When they finally stepped inside Tony’s apartment, long after his expected arrival for the party, the apprehension boiled over. Tony pushed a hand on Steve’s very solid chest.

“Just what the hell was that, back there?” He waited for Steve to answer. When it was apparent Steve was just going to place his bag in the room and get dressed in his workout clothes, Tony stopped him walking into the master bath just as his bodyguard yanked off his shirt. “Not gonna happen, buster. You’re going to tell me how you knew about Pym particles.”

“What makes you think I’m right? Maybe I was just pulling your leg?” Steve said and without any compunction about nudity at all, he finished stripping and started to put on his workout clothes. “Do you think we could go to the gym?”

Tony thought his tongue was too big for his mouth. “Um.” He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the rippling muscles in front of him. Steve had turned around and Tony couldn’t help but notice the shoulder to waist ratio, the corded muscles of his back, the long lancing scar along his vertebrae. “Um. I’m supposed to…” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Go to some party or something.”

Steve sagged. “Why didn’t you tell me before I got undressed?” 

Tony quirked an eyebrow at him. Shirt off, pants dropped, Tony wasn’t sure what Steve expected him to say. He just shrugged and said, “It’s only at T’Challa’s down the hall. You could call Clint to check on me. Make sure I have my bottle and my diaper’s changed.”

“You’re hilarious. Let me get my uniform back on-.”

Tony grabbed the jacket. “Why not just wear something more casual. Like real clothes.” At that point, Steve just stared at him akin to a deer in headlights. “You know like jeans and a t-shirt. You have them, right?” Tony left the bathroom and went to the large walk in closet in the master bedroom. He rummaged through Steve’s clothes to find more copies of the uniform, a few work out sets (plain white t-shirts and sweatpants), sleeping pants, but nothing else. “Seriously, you have no jeans?”

Steve trailed behind and stood at the entrance to the closet. “It’s not like I’ve ever gone shopping.” 

Tony turned around and studied his bodyguard. “Listen, unless you’re a robot or an alien from another planet you’ve been shopping. I don’t care what you remember or don’t remember for that matter. You need real clothes.”

Sighing as dramatically as he could, Tony headed over to his bureau and searched for a t-shirt. He found one and threw it at Steve. “Wear that. You can keep on your uniform pants since none of my jeans will fit you.”

Steve inspected the t-shirt and frowned. “Not sure-.”

“Wear it!” Tony yelled and stomped out of the room. With a few moments on his hands, Tony went to the kitchen and pulled out the jug of almond milk. He downed some and tried to clear his head of Pym particles – no, of the statuesque body in his master bedroom – yes. But what the fuck was with the long scar? Must have to do with his coma or memory loss or something. Tony screwed up his mouth and cursed. He still hadn’t spent enough time hacking into SHIELD. He drank some more milk from the carton as Steve walked out of the bedroom.

Grimacing, his bodyguard pointed to the carton and said, “Is that why that milk tastes funny? Because you drink out of the carton?”

Tony scoffed. “No. It’s almond milk, and Pepper refuses to buy the sugared stuff with the vanilla favoring.”

“How do they milk almonds?” Steve asked and Tony nearly fell for it.

“Now, you’re just being mean,” Tony said. He pulled off his hoodie. He had on a local band’s t-shirt which he loved. He’d opted to give Steve one of the throw back shirts with Uncle Sam on it. It was a joke but somehow with Steve nearly busting out of it, it looked less like a joke and more like a pin up model’s shirt. Tony swallowed down his reaction and asked, “Shall we go?”

“To T’Challa’s?”

“Yep.”

Okoye greeted them with a stern eye before allowing them to enter the apartment. It wasn’t a raucous party, but more intimate and low key. Not exactly, Tony’s type but he could do with some quiet time. As soon as they moved through the vestibule and into the main living room, he spotted Pepper. She jumped up from her conversation with Thor and rushed to him. She hugged Tony.

“It’s awful. Isn’t it? I’m just so upset.”

“Upset about what?” Pepper could get upset about the smallest things and the largest things, there was no in-between of being pissed and a little annoyed with her. 

“T’Challa’s leaving. His father is calling him back to Wakanda. With all this Protectorate stuff going on and the world going crazy – he can’t stay. You should say something to him.” Pepper released him from the embrace but held tight to his arm. 

“What can I say? Sorry, you gotta go? The world sucks?” Tony shrugged.

“Well a little better than that, but you should. I mean you two would have been great friends.” She nodded, convinced of something Tony had no basis for at all.

“I’ll give him my regrets that we never had hot tub cheese or something.” She squeezed his hand like what he’d just said made sense, but then again nothing in the world these days made any sense at all. 

Tony had to admit, he understood why Howard protested so much when he’d decided to come to school in Boston, an Open Class area without a Protectorate to wash his brain of any individual thoughts. But then again, his father had signed off on it, must have been hard but he did it for a reason – a reason Tony couldn’t fathom. His sights strayed to Commander Rogers who stood sentinel and quiet not a few meters from Tony. What was going on?

Before Tony wrapped his head around his thoughts though, T’Challa stepped up to him and gave a short jerk of his head. “I am sorry I will not be able to find out more about you, Tony Stark.”

“This is where I’m supposed to say the same thing. Back at you,” Tony said and lifted a drink someone placed in his hand along the way.

“The world edges on a precipice. The abyss below will not welcome us.” Tony noticed he didn’t hold a beer but kept his hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps someday, we will meet again. Perhaps someday when the world needs someone to build it back up, we will work together.”

Tony narrowed his focus on the prince. “How do you know we’ll be on the same side?”

T’Challa smiled like a cat that just ate the coal mine’s canary. He walked away without answering. It irked Tony. Everything about life these days pissed him off. “World seems designed that way,” he muttered.

“Designed what way?” 

Tony jerked in surprise but turned to find Clint standing next to him. “Designed to go into the shitter.”

“That’s about right.” Clint gave a half grin. “Drink your beer, Tony.”

“That’s what a bodyguard is supposed to do? Make sure an underage young adult gets his alcohol?” 

Clint gave off the air of someone who didn’t give a fuck, and that part, Tony liked but at the same time, something seethed beneath the surface. “Tell me, what’s with the big scar on choir boy’s back.”

The air chilled around them. Clint grabbed Tony’s arm and dragged him into the closest room – the small bath off the main room. He slammed the door shut. “When did he find out?”

“Find out what?”

“About the scar?”

“What about the scar?” Tony said. “I just asked you what’s with it.”

“And I asked you when Rogers, when Steve found out about the scar?” Clint hunched near Tony, practically pushing him into the wall. “When did he find out?”

“What the fuck? Do you mean to say he has no idea he has a scar running the length of his vertebrae?” The air did get decidedly colder. 

“He has no idea. Or didn’t. Does he now?” Clint asked, his eyes pierced Tony like a million tiny daggers.

“Not that I know of. I saw him undress. I saw his back,” Tony explained and something colder seeped through his veins. “He doesn’t know? He doesn’t know he has a major scar on his back. What the hell is going on?”

“And you’re not to tell him. Ever.”

“What the hell?” The idea that someone’s body wasn’t their own riled Tony. He’d seen a lot in his short years in a Protectorate that he questioned but this was insidious. “He has a right to know. What are you planning on doing when he happens to turn around and look in the mirror?” 

“He won’t,” Clint said. “Just take it from me, it’s for his own good. At least, until we’re able to make sure he’s safe.”

“What the fuck, Barton! What the hell is going on? I know SHIELD is all about cloak and dagger but he’s one of your own. Why are you playing cat and mouse with him? Why isn’t anyone telling him who he is? What happened to him?” The ugly scar marring that beautiful back pulsated in Tony’s memory. He’d seen scars before – long ugly scars – but the fact that the SHIELD Protectorate found it acceptable to keep something like this secret not only confused Tony but boiled his guts until he wanted to puke. 

“It’s not safe. Not yet. When we know, you’ll know. Don’t push it.” 

“He’s not safe? How the hell is he my bodyguard if he’s not even safe?” Tony shivered. Insidious wasn’t even the right word to explain the horror of the situation. The Protectorates were circling wagons, preparing to defend their existence. But no, they weren’t circling wagons, they were getting ready to send out an all-out assault on the world. At the same time, they were keeping Commander Rogers under their thumb, keeping him quiet. Keeping him -. “Are they controlling him?”

“What?” Clint asked.

“Are they controlling him? Is that what the scar is for? Do they have something implanted in him? Is he being controlled by SHIELD?” The nausea roiled his stomach.

“Keep an eye out. I’ll send you a message when it’s safe. When it’s time, you come to me, or you go to Natasha. No one else. Understand? Especially not Rumlow’s team,” Clint said. “I can’t say anymore now, but you keep an eye out. Understand?”

“You said that already,” Tony muttered.

“Well then, answer the question.”

Tony placed his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him away. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand perfectly.” He sneered. “I understand that this is a farce. That my father is paying for nothing. That the man out there playing my bodyguard is in danger and you’re hiding him with me for some reason. You’re keeping his memories fr-.”

Clint clamped a hand over Tony’s mouth. “Just be ready.” He left then, swung the door open and marched out of the bathroom. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” What the fuck was he supposed to do with all the half truths and huge lies? His head hurt just thinking about it. He wasn’t prepared to deal with this shit. He’s a student at MIT, not a spy with SHIELD or a soldier. Or whatever the hell Barton thinks he might be. “I’m a scientist not a -.” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. God, his eyes hurt, everything hurt just thinking about how fucking the whole situation was. A knock on the door interrupted his already jittery thought pattern. “Yeah?”

“Tony? It’s Steve. Are you okay?”

Tony sank against the door. All he wanted to reply was ‘are you?’ but he couldn’t. “I’m okay. Just coming out.” When he opened the door, Steve greeted him with a quizzical eye.

“Are you okay? You sound a little sick.”

Tony frowned at him, at his pretty eyes, his jaw of justice, his too tight t-shirt. He needed more than a beer. He needed a fucking blowjob to forget SHIELD, the Protectorate, his father, and Commander Rogers. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I gotta make a phone call.” 

Tony found a nice little corner in the living room as the party went on around him. It took him a little while, but he hacked into directory at school and managed to find Ty’s contact information. Instead of calling he sent a quick text.

_doing anything_

A photo of a stack of papers appeared on his phone and then a text in reply. _How can you read this shit? It’s just made up of Greek letters._

_scientists are baffling. Wanna get together. Hang out?_

_Your babysitter gonna be there_

Tony glanced up at Steve who stood not a meter from him. _I can give him the slip._ How he planned to do that was anyone’s guess. Seconds later an address appeared on Tony’s screen. He grinned. Maybe he would get lucky tonight. He needed a plan. At that moment, his gaze fell on Pepper. “Perfect.” He wove his way through the crowd to Pepper’s side. Grasping her wrist, he drew her away from her conversation with Thor’s girlfriend. 

“Tony!” Pepper protested.

He put his finger to his lips and then leaned in and whispered, “I need to give Steve the slip and I need you to help me.”

She stopped and looked over at Steve who hadn’t moved. The room wasn’t that big and there weren’t that many people at the party. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

“Sure it is, Mister Polite will do anything for you.” He lifted his chin. “Come on. I’m going to get an uber to come pick me up. When I get the signal, I need you to go to Steve and ask him to go to your room and get a sweater or something.”

She looked down at her long sweater. “I’m already wearing a sweater.”

“Then take it off.”

“It’s a sweater dress, Tony. I’m naked under here.” 

“Then ask him to go get your phone or something. And don’t tell me you have your phone. I don’t care. I gotta get out of here and I don’t need him nosing around.” Tony pleaded. “Come on Pepper. Please!”

She melted. Her shoulders sank. “Okay. But you owe me.”

“You got it.” Tony smiled. It took him only a second to engage a car. “Just a few minutes. The guy’s in the area.”

“Okay. I’ll go talk to him.” The reluctance in Pepper’s voice brought guilt into the picture, but Tony didn’t give a crap – which was untrue. He didn’t like using Pepper for this, but hell he needed to get away and forget for a while. He watched as Steve eyed Tony for a second and then turned back to Pepper. She smiled and gave her most earnest performance. He nodded, but before he left he whispered to Clint, pointed to Tony, and then nodded. 

Clint turned to Tony as Steve left the apartment. Tony only shook his head and left the apartment only minutes after Steve. Getting to the elevator and into the lift was a few minutes of hell, but he made it. The car was at the appointed area and Tony was taking off across the city in seconds. He relaxed back into the seat and smiled. That was easier than it should have been and he knew that Clint let him go with the obvious intention of making sure Tony knew it was a withdrawal from an already empty account. 

Ty wasn’t living in one of the better parts of town, but Tony didn’t give a shit. By the time he got buzzed into the building, he ignored the homeless man on the stoop, the smell of urine in the lobby, and the peeling paint on the walls of the staircase. When he climbed the stairs to the third floor and rapped on the door, Tony started to have second thoughts. Right before he turned to escape, Ty opened the door.

“Hey!” Ty smiled and every thought disintegrated in Tony’s head. Ty – older, not wiser, but helluva handsome guy. His hair had that quality of perfectly messed. His unshaven jaw toyed with a beard but didn’t commit. His height could intimidate – hell Tony had been there – but right now, Ty just invited and welcomed at the same time. “Come on in. Want a beer?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony stepped into the apartment and realized it was just a studio. A small kitchen, a desk that served as a table and a bed with a computer on it was shoved up against the wall. Tony could hear the sounds of Boston filtering up through the open window. It wasn’t warm out but the radiator heater in the room made it sweltering. 

Ty gave him the bottle and plopped down on the bed. “Welcome to my abode. Gotta admit never thought you’d be here after the other night.”

“Me neither,” Tony said and took a swig of the bottle. It was mildly warm. “I needed to get away from things. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Ty patted the bed. “Come on sit. We can do whatever. No pressure. Wanna binge watch something?” 

Tony glanced back at the door, thought of the stern look Steve would give him, then back at Ty. A fleeting image of the long scar on Steve’s back assaulted his memory and Tony threw himself on the bed. “God I needed this.” He drank down the beer.

“Shit, what’s going on?” Ty said. “You seemed to have it together this afternoon. And thanks by the way for the primer. Going from Systems Engineering to the actual nuts and bolts of it is a little like culture shock.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I kind of feel that way on a daily basis here.”

“Oh you mean being in an Open Class area. I get that. I grew up in one but then it incorporated and became a Protectorate. It’s not all that different, you’ll see,” Ty said, and he leaned back on one arm. “Sure Open Class you got a lot more choices, but with a Protectorate, you have a lot of security. You don’t have to worry that you won’t have a place. It’s easier. Lot less stress.”

“Lot less brain power. Do you know that inventions and innovations have decreased by 30% since Protectorates took over?” Tony hadn’t meant to blurt that out. “Sorry, it’s just that stifling free thought does have its disadvantages.”

Ty raised his beer bottle. “You have me there. To all the good ideas lost to security and comfort.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Tony asked. Why was he groping around this subject when he should be just groping around Ty’s pants?

“Mean what?” Ty tilted his head. Part of Tony found it endearing but the other part found it patronizing and humiliating. 

“I don’t think I want to talk about this anymore,” Tony muttered as he took a drink of his beer. His head clogged with thoughts, with misunderstandings, with the long scar along his bodyguard’s back that the man didn’t even know about at all.

“What’s on your mind?” Ty leaned forward, closer, inviting. He wanted – and Tony was here to give – after all.

Tony swallowed down the bitter taste of his regret. He didn’t need anymore of that – he was young enough to be stupid, but old enough to play the game. Yet, he didn’t want to play the game, he discovered. He placed the bottle of beer on the coffee table. “Thanks for the drink, Ty. I appreciate it. I should be going.” He stood up, but Ty caught his hand.

“You’re obviously upset, Tony. You can stay. We can play videos games or binge watch something. Or even holographic it. What do you say?” he asked with a squeeze of Tony’s hand. 

Tony weighed what he came here for against the squirmy feeling worming it’s way in his gut. He shook his head. “Sorry, Ty. I should really go.”

“Let me get you a cab or something,” Ty said.

Tony stepped away, tugging his hand free of Ty’s clasp. “No reason. I can uber it or something.” He should call someone, anyone, as soon as possible. Walking the streets in this part of the city was not a sign of genius by any stretch of the imagination. “Don’t worry about me.” 

Ty cringed a little as he stood up. “Now, I’m not letting you leave without even getting you a ride back to your apartment.” He picked up his phone from the coffee table and started to flick through the screens.

“You don’t-.”

Ty held up his hand. “Yes I do.” He turned away to finish the order for a car. 

Tony stood there, hands in his pockets feeling all the more like a child. This wasn’t what he came for – he’s tired of people thinking of him as a child or an asset to be protected. He wanted to get out of the Protectorate to have more freedom, but also to experience the true dangers of life. He glanced over his shoulder at Ty and wondered if he should just tackle the guy and get the fucking he wanted so badly that he journeyed all the way across town. He remained in place, not acting on his impulses. 

When Ty turned back to Tony, he said, “Car should be here in a few minutes. Want to finish your beer?”

Tony waved it off. “I’ll go wait in the vestibule. Thanks, Ty.”

“You know, Tony, you have friends. I might be someone new in your life, but I hope you’ll consider me a friend, someday.”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe,” Tony said with a weak smile pasted onto his face. He didn’t wait for a reply but escaped into the hallway and then rushed down the stairs. His heart raced in his chest as he made it to the vestibule. He wasn’t being pursued but it felt like it. Not by Ty, but by his own foolishness. What had he been thinking? Coming to Ty? Trying to get the guy into his pants? Blaming it on alcohol was just a cop out and Tony knew it. He wasn’t even drunk. Standing in the vestibule he wiped at his face and realized he never asked what the car would look like. He stared at the intercom, he could just buzz Ty and ask. But then a car pulled up to the sidewalk and beeped.

Tony frowned. It looked way too familiar. Shit. “Steve.” Tony sighed and left the safety of the vestibule, trying not to think about Ty ratting him out. A cold rain saturated the streets and by the time Tony dashed the few feet to the car he was soaked as well. He slipped into the front seat and Steve nodded. His eyes revealed nothing of the rebuke that Tony expected. 

Silently, Steve pulled the car away from the curb and navigated back into the dwindling night traffic. Mercifully for the first ten minutes of the drive, Steve stayed silent and Tony thought he might get away with it. But then he noticed how Steve’s hand gripped the steering wheel. He wasn’t wearing his fingerless gloves and Tony glimpsed the white knuckles of Steve’s hands. The telltale tic was back in the jaw of justice, too. Sighing, Tony took the bull by the horns.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run out.”

“True,” Steve growled.

“I should have asked you to come along,” Tony admitted. 

“No.” The hands flexed and closed. Through his gritted teeth, Steve said, “You shouldn’t have asked for me to come along. You should have told me, and I would have come along. I am not your friend, Tony. I am your bodyguard, I’m here to keep you safe.” 

Tony snapped back, “Safe? Keep me safe? How can you keep me safe when you can’t even keep yourself safe?” 

The car jerked and nearly hit a car in the next lane. Steve righted his path and snarled at Tony. “I don’t know what you’re inferring. My job is to keep you safe. That’s what I’m trying to do. Everyday. Every minute.”

“But tell me really,” Tony hissed. “How can you when you don’t even know- when you have no idea-.”

Steve stopped Tony with a quick glare. “That I don’t know who I am? No idea about where I come from? If I have any family? What’s going on in this godforsaken world? I’ll tell you, Tony Stark. My job is to protect you. You. That’s all I know, and I know it down to my bones. I know I have to protect you. And I will with my life. Got it?” Another glare.

Tony sat there, staring at Steve, stunned into silence. He nodded. “Yeah.” The word came out like a whisper. Tony believed everything Steve said, believed it down to his bones. Steve had no identity but protecting Tony. And somehow that duty, that identity formed the backbone of how he saw himself. Every fiber of Steve’s existence hung on Tony. 

Sinking back in the seat, Tony watched the rain pour down and the flash of lightning in the distance. There wasn’t anything to be done about it, because Tony needed to know who Steve Rogers was. Something lurked beneath the surface, something more than a strange scar, something more than amnesia and spies that held their secrets. Something that revolved around Steve’s devotion to Tony – utterly blind devotion. Tony’d been around a lot of security guards in his day, but no one like Steve. No one quite like him at all. 

Something was amiss and Tony knew exactly where he needed to be to find out and who he needed to call to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up - Tony discovers who Steve really is - or does he?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes a horrific discovery, goes to a Halloween party, sings, eats really good pancakes, and maybe fake dates Steve...
> 
> Oh and it's a lot more complicated...

Tony stood in the cold sterile lab and shivered. He stared at the slab, pulled out from the wall of drawers – a morgue. His mind told him these things, processed these things but it was a distant thing, a nightmare he couldn’t right, a nightmare made to remind him life never would be controlled but would always disintegrate to chaos. 

His vision blanked out and he called it a win. Acknowledging what he saw, what lay upon the table, meant that the world around him revolved around something more sinister, more evil that he ever wanted to understand. Part of him pretended on a daily basis, like everyone else, that eventually the world would even out, that the life he lived, that the degradation of democracy and the republic was only a momentarily blip in a world ever trying to be better, but always plagued with a species hell bent toward violence. Tony wanted so much to go back to that innocent boy, that youth who believe that nothing could stop the world from bettering itself. 

Yet the body on the slab told a different story. A sob escaped him. He knew who it was. Tears streamed down his face. Silent. He tried to muffle his crying. He forced himself to examine what he’d found. Really look at it. Was this some horrible joke that his father thought would sway him to pledge his allegiance to the Protectorate? 

No.

It was a real body.

A body whose head was lain to the side, not attached. Tony gulped down the contents of his stomach but failed. He leaned over and vomited, violently as if his own body assaulted him from the inside out. More tears stained his cheeks. He cursed in a low whisper as he climbed back to his feet. He could do this; he could figure out what the hell net of deceit his father wove. Tony stepped over to the slab, ignoring the stench of vomit mixing with a decaying corpse. 

Someone split open the body’s chest. Organs were missing if Tony knew any of his biology. Heart, left lung gone. The slice continued down to the victim’s navel. He’d been eviscerated. His entrails pulled out and placed who knew where. There was no deference to the dead here. Tony gazed at the carnage and a peculiar sentiment of dissociation came over him. It reminded him of the time as a young boy when his father hit him so hard, he smashed into the newel post of the staircase. He hadn’t cried. Just stood there with his scalp bleeding and his head somewhere else – gone away from the everyday. But this wasn’t every day. This was a dead body during a horrific autopsy. 

Tony’s gaze traveled back up to the head. He didn’t want to look lower than the navel. It was garish and gross. But then again, the decapitated head sitting next to the body wasn’t exactly beautiful. The eyes were open. Its mouth was open as well as if caught in the middle of a scream. 

A sob escaped Tony’s lips. No strength he summoned helped. He whispered a name, a single name and everything crashed into him. 

“Steve.”

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

“Jesus Christ, this is not a good time, Obie,” Tony said as he perched the phone on his shoulder and juggled the massive head of his costume in his other hand. It was too big and eventually he gave up all hope of keeping Pikachu in his grip. The head dropped down and rolled a few feet, wobbling on the landing to the staircase. 

“Listen, son, this is important. Your father has to make good on his promises to the SHIELD Protectorate. If we seal this deal, then the Stark Protectorate will be the most powerful in the country. You know we’re counting on you,” Obie said. 

Tony was glad he didn’t engage the holographic teleconference during the call. Sitting in the middle of a ruckus Halloween party, it seemed like a good idea not to at the time – now it felt like an outstanding decision. Stane and Howard did not need to know that Tony was dressed up like a Pokeman character and about to get smashed out of his mind. Granted it, this was one of the late Halloween parties he’d gone to since it was being held in early November, but beggars can’t be choosers especially ones that spent the last week locked away in a lab trying to forge ahead on too many projects at once. 

“We need the Jericho, son.”

“I know, Obie. I do. I gotta lot on my plate.” Tony stared at his costume’s head as it teetered. One of the partiers was bound to walk by it and tip it so that it would do a slow but deathly roll down the stairs into the basement where Scott’s band, The Ants, played. He needed to signal to Steve. Where the hell was his bodyguard anyway? Wasn’t he supposed to be by his side at all times? 

“This should take priority, Tony. You know your father only agreed that you could go to MIT if you showed your loyalty to the Protectorate and made the Protectorate’s needs a priority. Now I know that’s not what you want,” Obie said, and he used that soothing voice that always quieted a little boy a long time ago. “I know you want the freedom and, you know I accept that, and I understand that. But you have to do your part, Tony. Especially now when everything is really in a questionable state in the world.”

He sighed as a very drunk Thor ambled by and kicked the Pikachu head down the stairs, raising his arms in triumph as if he just scored a goal. Tony rolled his eyes and pinched his nose as he grasped the phone to his ear. “Fine. I’ll do what I can.”

“Your mother wants you to come of the D.C..”

“No, she doesn’t,” Tony said. He knew a white lie when he heard one. 

“No, she doesn’t. But she did say it would be wonderful to see you while they were in D.C. for the week. She talked about celebrating an early Thanksgiving.” 

Tony froze. Celebrate? A holiday together like a normal family. That was unheard of for the Starks. Thanksgiving was always off the table and his parents usually spent the Christmas holiday and New Year’s somewhere warm and tropical. Who cared if this wasn’t actually on Thanksgiving. The idea tantalized. “Really? She wants to celebrate?”

“She wants you all to have a nice dinner,” Obie replied. “Come down to D.C.. I’ll send you the particulars. Bring that girlfriend of yours.”

Girlfriend? Oh right, he’d told Obie and Howard that Pepper was his girlfriend. “Oh, I’ll see if she can make it.” And just like that he was going to D.C. to spend the first Thanksgiving (even if it wasn’t actually on the designated calendar day) with his family in forever. Rack his brain, Tony failed to pinpoint the last time he had a Thanksgiving with mom and dad. “I’ll be there.” He disconnected and the foolishness of youth raced his heart to amazing speeds. He swore a marathon wasn’t out of the question right now. 

Steve walked up the stairs with the head of Tony’s costume in his arms and a smile on his face. 

“I thought you were supposed to be guarding me.” 

Steve wasn’t in costume. He still stuck out like a sore thumb, but he managed to mingle fairly well. Ever since T’Challa’s going away party, his bodyguard had settled to a degree. Tony noticed he’d started to sleep instead of staring at the ceiling through the night. 

“I am.” He tapped his glove and a small holographic image of Tony appeared. 

“How the hell-.” Tony whipped around trying to find the cameras for the feed. That didn’t make sense. They were hanging out at Scott’s place – a rundown house he rented with a bunch of other students. 

“I talked with Friday and she tagged your biometric profile to my circuit button. Easy.” Steve only smirked while Tony gaped at him.

“You know you play the technology fool but in truth you’re an evil genius. How the hell did Friday do the biometric profile thing?” 

Steve grimaced. “Don’t think I’m going to tell you all of my secrets. So, who were you talking to in the middle of this fabulous Halloween party that you insisted that you had to come to in November?” Steve hadn’t wanted to come out tonight. Boston drowned in rain over the last week. Every day, every night, pouring cold rain. It chilled and soaked. Steve had protested but luckily Tony still held all veto power. 

Tony shifted the head to the side. “Oh that. Obie. We have to go to D.C. for a Thanksgiving dinner thing. Early not right on the day, because heaven forbid, we ever actually have a real family holiday.” He thought about it. “Maybe we should invite the gang over to my apartment for Thanksgiving. Turkey with all the fixings. Do you know how to cook a turkey?”

“Wait, wait-.” Before Steve managed to get his next words out the band in the basement blared out music and then Scott announced the last set. 

“Shit, I promised Scott I’d be there. I gotta sing for the band.”

“What?” 

“I sing!” Tony smiled, stuffed the head at Steve making him take it, and then jogged down the stairs. He didn’t wait to see if Steve followed him. Hell, if the biometric profile that Friday built for Steve actually did work to tag him maybe it might mean that Tony would have some breathing room. Not that he didn’t like the guy. Steve was becoming one of his favorite people. Dedication and honesty did that to Tony, plus his kindness. Hell, the guy always got up before Tony and made him coffee. Coffee! How could that be a bad thing?

Yet it would be nice to get some elbow room from his babysitter once in a while. He also knew that Steve wanted more time to himself. He liked to work out, something that Tony hated to do. So, Steve would have to wait until Tony was ready to go to the gym to work out. Of course, Tony happened to like it a lot more since he got to watch the resident god like creature – his bodyguard – beat the shit out of the punching bag and then lift weights like they were nothing. Tony hypothesized that Steve might actually be able to lift a vehicle or something. 

Regardless, living in one another’s pockets did breed some contempt. Tony was always over critical of Steve’s routines and his ‘orders’. While Steve proved to be a bit of a stickler when it came to anything that might involve any risk at all and Tony. They had a screamer of a fight about the fact Tony wanted to go to the local indoor skydiving event. Tony won that one, but only because he conceded that Steve would be his spotter and no one else. 

As he stood next to the makeshift stage, Tony struggled with his costume trying to get it off. Steve appeared next to him to help. “I didn’t know you sang.”

“A bit of the classics and Scott’s band doesn’t really have a lead singer without Hope here.” He tossed the costume aside and adjusted his t-shirt since it had rolled up inside the outfit. “How do I look?” Steve looked him over as if he was assessing a mission report. “Christ, just tell me if I forgot to zip my fly or something.”

Steve focused on Tony’s fly. “Yep, looks good.”

“You know, Rogers, you’re a real dick sometimes.”

The Commander had the audacity to wink at him. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“You shouldn’t be allowed out.” 

Just as he spoke, Scott announcing his gig and the crowd of grad students with some undergrads hooted and cheered. It’s mainly because everyone was drunk, but Tony didn’t care. He stepped up onto the platform and leaned into the old-fashioned mic. “How about a little classic stuff.” He turned to Scott. “Police, Every Breath?”

“Got it.”

Scott’s band wasn’t large. It consists of his best friend Luis and their keyboard player Kurt. Neither Luis or Kurt were in school and Tony suspected Scott hung out with them for other reasons, but he never dug too deeply. Scott played the drums and Luis the guitar. It was a shame they didn’t have a bass player. The music needed that richer sound to it, especially for Tony’s picks, but that didn’t matter not when he got to sing. They managed with the use of the keyboard. 

The first drum stroke and Tony swayed into the music. He began and the crowd hushed, listening to the song, moving with the beat. The world of science owned Tony, but every now and then he slipped away into the envelope of music. It folded around him like a shroud and he held it tight to his chest, a shield against the stress and anxiety of everyday. He wasn’t on stage to belt out ballads or reach a pinnacle of mad success, instead Tony sought music as an escape. His mind eased into it like crawling under a blanket and nesting to sleep. The place where music resided in his heart offered him solace and strength.

He moved onto more contemporary songs but went back to older, classic music as they progressed through the night. The crowd stayed mesmerized and the few people that hadn’t been in the basement eventually made their way to pack the house and appreciate the band. When it came time to wrap it up, Tony hated the thought. The band though nodded to him. They finished but their friends asked for one more.

“Okay, I got one more. Just the refrain as the band packs up.” The audience quieted as Tony closed his eyes and tapped out the beat with his foot. Then he launched into a love ballad, one his mother used to sing – a long time ago. When she sang it her eyes always got misty and she would fall into a silence afterward. 

“ ‘Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you  
Embrace me, you irreplaceable you

Just one look at you  
My heart grew tipsy in me  
You and you alone  
Bring out the lover in me

I love all the many charms about you  
Above all, I want those arms about you.’ ”

He opened his eyes and started the refrain again as the audience found that same solitude and peace he always did from music – except for one person. Standing rigid in the corner near the stairs, Steve gazed at him, stricken and frozen in place. Tony finished the second refrain and then the crowd cheered and clapped. All the while Steve stood stock still as if someone held him prisoner. Tony didn’t even think he blinked and that would be something considering the smoke and vape clouds trapped in the basement. 

Scott gripped Tony’s shoulders and shook him, bringing him out of his Steve induced trace. “Yes! That was fantastic! All we need is a bass player. Hope plays bass but she’s all the way-.”

“Yeah I know in California. You don’t have to tell me again,” Tony said and patted Scott’s hand. “I gotta go.”

“You sure? Luis and Kurt wanted to talk to you about heading up the band, you know going full out lead singer. What do you say?” Scott beamed at him.

Tony hesitated and then shook his head. “I’ll think about it.” He wrestled away from Scott and jumped down from the platform. Steve still stood in the corner, but his head was bowed, and he looked like he was trying to disappear. Even when Tony approached him, he remained motionless. 

“Steve?”

Nothing. Not a twitch. Not that jaw flicker. Nothing at all.

“Steve?” Still nothing. Tony glanced around the room. People were slowly drifting away, going upstairs to either get their drinks refilled or possibly leave. “Hey, Steve!” Finally, Tony grabbed Steve’s arms and shook him as he said, “Steve!”

Steve perked up. His eyes were bloodshot and strangely searching as if he’d just woken from a terrible nightmare. “Wha-what?”

“Steve? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Steve licked his lips and shook his head. “No. Nothing.” He willed himself to stand straight; Tony felt his muscles tremble under the strain. Tony watched, amazed at how the horror passed over his features and then dissipated. Not dissipated that was the wrong word – willfully shoved aside as if he battled a monster and defeated it. 

“Are you sure?” Tony asked. “What happened? Did something happen?” And all of the sudden, Tony worried where Pepper was, or Ty. They’d all come together to the party though Steve wasn’t impressed with Ty even though he never made an untoward move on Tony again. They’d been maybe dating for a week or so. Just hanging out – that was what Tony told Steve, though the flush of red to the Commander’s cheeks just red flagged the fact that it riled Steve up. 

“I’m fine.” He tugged on his jacket. Lost was the relaxed bodyguard.

“Come on! Don’t give me that crap. Something freaked you out.” Tony kept his hand on Steve’s arm. “What the hell is going on?”

Steve inhaled audibly and then slowly exhaled. “You know they gave me breathing exercises to relax me when I stressed out about not remembering anything. I use them and they don’t work at all. Most of the time I just feel this overwhelming sense of disconnection.”

“Dissociation.” Briefly, Tony considered whether Steve might have some form of multiple personality disorder, but he hadn’t seen any other characteristic signs of it. 

“Something like that, but it felt more like I-.” Steve stopped as he chewed on his lower lip. “Like the song, I remembered it. I remembered that it was important to me. I remember wanting to dance to it.”

“Yeah?” Tony said. He gripped Steve’s arm all the harder. “This is good. You remembered something! You should be happy!”

“No.” Steve closed his eyes. “No.” He opened them and awash of loss swept over Tony. “I remember wanting to dance to it, but I don’t know how to dance. And I missed my date. Or something.”

“Date?” Tony said.

“At the Stock, or Stook or Stork Club. I’m not sure.” Steve brushed a hand through his hair and then the steely look came over his features. He rubbed his temples and then said, “We better find Pepper and your date.” That last part he muttered with acid in his tone. “I think the party is breaking up.”

Tony grinned. “Oh boy, the party is just beginning!” He ushered Steve back up the stairs. “Don’t you get it? This is a big clue. We finally have something to work with. Oh, and we’re going to the SHIELD Protectorate so I can get into their intranet and find some shit out.” 

Before Steve asked any questions about his announcement, Tony bounded up the stairs, two at a time. Both Ty and Pepper were waiting for him. Pepper had a grimace on her face as she glared at Ty from the side of the room, out of his visual field. Tony half surmised that Pepper might have a little crush on Tony and therefore hated Ty with a fire of a thousand suns, which was all fine for Tony. He liked the attention. 

On the other hand, Ty looked a little pissed when he saw Steve coming right up behind Tony. The crowd in the living room had filtered out and only a few stray people were left to party. Most lounged on the couches, too tired or too drunk to move. Ty hadn’t dressed up, but he had a mask that looked like the old fashion super villain Darth Vader. There was no sign of it now. 

His arms crossed, he looked like a teacher judging Tony’s work. “Where were you?”

“I was downstairs. I sang. Did you come for the set?”

“I was busy.” 

Steve grumbled behind him, but Tony failed to catch what he said. “You promised. This was something big for me, Ty. You know it. I told you.” Pepper started to move toward Tony but stopped when Ty took him by the elbow and dragged him into the kitchen.

As they entered, Ty shoved Tony into a chair. Glancing toward the living room before turning back to Tony, he leaned over him and said, “I’ve been real patient. Really patient.”

“Is it real or really because you know those are two different things.”

Ty stood up straight and ground his teeth. “For fuck’s sake, Tony. Don’t you get it? We’ve been going out and that goon of yours is always there.”

“He’s been good about it. He’s kept his distance. He’s in the other room right now,” Tony replied, and half wanted Steve to interrupt them considering Ty’s seething anger.

“That’s just it. He’s always right there, around the corner.” Ty leaned down again. “I want to be with you. I can’t. Because your god damned babysitter is always interrupting. A guy has needs, Tony. I want you. Don’t you see it?” He ran his hand down Tony’s cheek. 

Something squirmed in Tony’s belly. It hurt and he forced himself not to shy away from Ty’s attention. This was his boyfriend, after all. “I know. We just-. We can’t. I can’t.”

Ty bolted upright. “Fuck.” He hissed at Tony. “What the hell am I wasting my time for? You’re a tease. You always have been.”

When Ty bent over him again Tony pressed his hand to his chest. “And you’re drunk again.” 

“For Christ’s sakes it’s a party. I can drink some beers and have a good time.”

“I’m not your good time, Ty.” Ty protested Tony’s attempt to stand up by slamming his hands on either of Tony’s shoulders and pushing him down. 

“You are my good time. What say we go upstairs and I pull off those tight jeans and get in your ass.” He whispered into Tony’s ear. “I bet you like it raw and hard. I bet you bareback it and don’t like the prep. You’re too eager.”

Anything but – Tony wanted to say but muffled his reaction. Normally, after a hot and heavy party, flying high from drink and singing, Tony welcomed the attention. He’d be all horny for it. But Ty – the thought of it – roiled his stomach and he swallowed down the bile. “Forget it, Ty. I think this is it for us.” Tony gave a heave and managed to get Ty off him.

“You’re not going to like what I do with bad boys who don’t listen to their daddy,” Ty said and lurched forward at Tony. Tony stumbled back into the side of the refrigerator but a hand seized Ty’s shirt and yanked him away.

“I’m afraid we still have a misunderstanding here, Mister Stone. I think you need to cool off and leave Mister Stark alone,” Steve said. 

“He’s a not a damsel in distress and you’re not his knight in shining armor,” Ty retorted and hauled off and swung his fist at Steve.

Without much effort at all, Steve caught his arm, twisted him around, and had him pinned to the doorframe of the kitchen. 

“You know, I don’t like repeating myself, so I won’t. I have one priority in this life and that’s Tony Stark. You mess with him; you get a free ticket to messing with me. And that means I destroy you. Do you get that?” Ty growled and Steve slammed him against the doorframe again. “What was that?”

“Fuck you, Stark. I never want to see you again.”

“That’s going to be hard considering we’re in the same lab,” Tony said. “Well, until I talk to Hank anyway.”

“You fucking bastards, both of you.” He sniveled and the tears mixed with the snot coming from his nostrils. He wiggled a bit but failed to break free.

Without turning around, Steve said, “Tony, you okay?”

“Fine. Good. Let’s go. Leave him here.” 

Steve jerked against Ty once, but then released him to sink to the floor. “Let’s go. Pepper is waiting in the car.”

“My costume?”

“In the car,” Steve said and threw a glare at Ty as he climbed to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Getting into the car, Tony settled into the front seat with Steve. Pepper dressed up in a Wonder Woman costume squished into the back with the humongous Pikachu costume and head. 

Steve pulled out into traffic and remained silent until Tony said, “I’m not a damsel in distress you know. I was handling that.”

Instead of the usual ‘I saw how you were handling that’ reply Tony got was, “I know. You were a guy in distress. Men can be in hazard situations, too. They can also be in abusive relationships.”

“That’s very open minded of you, Steve,” Pepper commented.

“Ty wasn’t exactly abusive.”

“Taunting you is not foreplay, Tony. It’s not teasing either. It’s verbal abuse,” Steve replied.

They fell silent as Tony gazed out the window, seeing the smear of orange on the horizon through the buildings of the city. Nearly dawn. How long had they stayed out? “It’s really late, isn’t it?”

“Almost 6 am,” Pepper said and yawned. “I’m going straight to bed.”

“Me too. I think I could sleep for a week.” Tony hadn’t realized just how exhausted he was until he saw the glimmer of sunrise. He glanced over at Steve, who hadn’t said a word about his state. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Steve turned down their street. 

“That I’m your one priority in life?” It felt weird even to voice it out loud and, as he did, Pepper made a little meep noise. 

“Yes. Of course.”

“Because I’m your assignment,” Tony said trying to convince himself it was nothing more than that.

“No. Because you’re my priority, Tony. I have nothing else. I have you. That’s all.” Steve parked the car. “Now, is it time for your nappy?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “If that’s supposed to be a joke, you’re doing it all wrong.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “Am I?”

Pepper burst out laughing and Tony thought for a second she might break a rib she laughed so hard. “I think you’re over tired.” 

Through snorts she said, “I am.” She added something but could barely get it out. 

“It’s really not that funny,” Tony said and stretched back to whap at her.

“It really isn’t.” She had tears in her eyes. “I gotta get to bed.” 

“Let’s go then,” Steve said and somehow managed to get them and the bulky costume out of the car, up the elevator and into the apartment without much incidents, although Pepper mourned a little outside of T’Challa’s door. His apartment was now empty.

Once in the apartment Pepper struggled to stand up and Tony realized she a little bit more than tipsy. Steve grabbed her before she fell. “I’ll get her into her room. You can get ready for bed.”

“Sure, thanks,” Tony said and watched as Steve carried a very intoxicated, very silly Pepper into her room. He should go and make sure that Steve didn’t take advantage of the situation, but he trusted Steve and within a few minutes he joined Tony in his bedroom.

“I’ll get you some ibuprofen and water,” Steve said as he headed back out of the room into the kitchen. Tony trailed after him. 

“You seemed to have snapped out of it.”

Steve poured the water from the filtered pitcher and set the glass aside as he placed the pitcher back in the refrigerator. “Out of what?”

“The funk you’ve been in. After your little meltdown in the basement there-.” 

Steve picked up the glass and strode past Tony into the master bedroom. He continued to the bath where he retrieved the bottle of ibuprofen. “I didn’t have a meltdown.”

“I don’t know, it seems different. You seem a little more-.” Tony shrugged. “You know, like a person.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” he said and placed the cup and two little red pills on the night table beside Tony’s bed. “Take that and drink all of the water. I have to see if I can get Pepper to take hers.”

He walked out of the room before Tony could say anything else. He took the pills and drank the water. He went and showered and put on his sleeping pants before he ended up in the bed as Steve returned. He took off his jacket and hung it in the closet. 

“I’m going to shower. Why don’t you sleep?” Steve said and closed the blinds. It was full daylight now. 

“Will you sleep in the bed?” Tony didn’t know why he asked. He just couldn’t stomach the idea of Steve sleeping on the floor, next to the drafty sliding glass doors.

Usually Steve waved off Tony’s request, but this time he stopped. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“Why not?”

Steve’s cheeks colored and he looked away. “I need to shower.” He left without further word. 

Tony fell asleep before he returned and when he did awake, he found Steve sleeping on top of the quilt inside of his sleeping bag but on the bed. Tony considered it progress. Progress toward what, Tony didn’t know but he sure as hell felt more comfortable with Steve on the bed and not on the floor. It felt like Steve belonged there. Which was patently crazy and just went to show how Tony really needed a boyfriend. Preferably not a dick like Ty. Guy could not hold his liquor at all. Which reminded, Tony he had an email to send to Pym. 

He crawled out of bed, a little nauseous but not bad. He went to the bathroom and finished up quickly. Shuffling out of the bathroom, he noticed that Steve had gotten up but wasn’t to be found in the bedroom. Instead he found him in the kitchen making the coffee.

“Give me!” Tony declared and slumped down on the stool. “I have to email Pym because of Ty today. Maybe I should just clear things up with him.”

“Maybe you should make a good decision and stay away from that guy.”

“You know you are cock blocking me.”

“You know your cock needs to have some discretion. He’s beneath you.” Steve set the mug of steaming coffee in front of Tony. “I suppose the lab is out today since it’s nearly dinner time.”

“Yeah, tomorrow. I gotta still email Pym about Ty.”

“I already did.”

Tony choked on the coffee. “Fuck! No. You don’t get to do that. He’s my boss and Ty was my boyfriend.”

“And I’m your bodyguard. I need to protect you, Tony. Pym needs to do what kind of person Ty is. All I did was report that he’d gotten drunk again and was inappropriate at the party. I didn’t detail anything. I told him that you will no longer be able to work with Ty. That’s all.” Steve started to mix up some pancake batter. 

“Well.” Tony didn’t really have much else to say and he sunk down on the stool, arms folded on the countertop and rested his head. “I’m still tired.”

“Then go back to bed.” Steve put on the griddle and threw a few pats of butter on it. 

“You’re making pancakes. I have to stay here. And you never answered my question last night,” Tony said. 

“Question?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Steve worked with his back to Tony. The muscles of his shoulders were prominent in his A-shirt. He looked fabulous and Tony grinned. He spotted the indentation of the scar along Steve’s back. “Do you have a lot of scars?” He gulped back the words even as he said them. 

“Scars? You asked me about scars?”

“Hmm? No. I just wondered if you had a lot considering you were in a war or something.” That was what they’d told Steve after all when he woke from his coma. 

Steve frowned as he turned from the griddle. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. I don’t have anything that might give us a clue that is.”

Tony thought of the scar long Steve’s back. “None, huh?” 

Steve shrugged and went back to cooking. A groan sounded from behind Tony and he spun on his stool to see Pepper shuffling out of her room. She still had half of the Wonder Woman costume on, just not the boots or the gauntlets.

“Please let me die,” Pepper moaned and flopped on the couch. “How did I get home?”

“We brought you. You want coffee?” Tony got up from his seat.

“Just water. Lots of water.”

Tony obliged Pepper and brought her a reusable bottle of water. “Here. Drink it slowly.”

She nodded but didn’t open her eyes. “What’s that terrible smell?”

“It’s pancakes and it’s not terrible,” Tony said with a chuckle. “Steve and I were having a heart to heart. He’s telling me about all of his scars.”

“Hmm.”

She seemed unconscious again. Tony moved back to the kitchen island as Steve placed a plate stacked with pancakes covered in syrup and butter. “At least I didn’t get drunk last night.”

“You were a little but not like some others.”

“And you?” Tony shoveled a huge forkful of pancake in his mouth. It was delicious. 

“I don’t get drunk. I’m on duty, 24/7.” He loaded his own plate with twice the number of pancakes and soaked it with syrup. He sat down next to Tony and ate as if it was a mission.

“It ever concern you that you eat enough for about 4 guys your size?” Tony said as Steve reached over and forked a few more pancakes from the stack he’d placed near the now empty griddle.

Steve only lifted a shoulder. “I must have a high metabolism.”

“You remember anything about that?” Tony ate but a lot slower than Steve.

Steve looked off into the distance. “I remember being hungry a lot as a kid. Like an empty hollow feeling in my gut. I also remember that my mom cried a lot.” He stopped and put his fork down. “God, my mom.”

Tony grasped Steve’s bicep. “You remember her?”

“Just a feeling about her. She was a sad a lot and tired all the time. I think we didn’t have a lot of money or something. I was sick, I think.” He pressed his fingers to his temples and blinked his eyes several times. “Where’s that ibuprofen? I think I’m getting a sympathy headache.”

“That’s a heck of a lot to remember all the sudden,” Tony called after him. The pancakes really were delicious. They tasted like little dessert cakes. Steve came back and downed three pills with his coffee. Tony pointed to the stack of pancakes. “These are beyond good.”

“The secret is the almond extract.”

“I have almond extract?” Routinely, Tony had no idea what was in the cupboards. He usually ordered out or was in the lab working through dinner, breakfast, even lunch. As long as his kitchen had coffee he felt it was well stocked. “But seriously, you remembered a lot since last night.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It just feels right,” Steve said and continued to eat as if it was his last meal. 

“We opened the flood gates. Has anything else come to you?” Tony shoved the plate away; his stomach overstuffed.

“I don’t know.” Steve took Tony’s pancakes and chewed away as he considered the question. “It’s not flood gates, just a sensation of the fog lifting. Like I’m slowly waking up. I’m not sure.” He rubbed at his temples. “Damn this is one bad headache.”

“You sure you didn’t get drunk yesterday?” Tony went and poured more coffee. He was happy he had a regular coffee maker too. A whole carafe poured directly down his gullet sounded superb. 

“No. I didn’t drink at all. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go lie down for a while.” He pushed away from his meal, looking positively green and disappeared into the bedroom.

Tony sat there, drinking his coffee in silence until Pepper chimed in and said, “You do realize he just told you the story of Captain America’s early life, right?” She surprised him as she sat down carefully next to him as if she was afraid the jolt might crack her head open. 

The hot coffee nearly burned him as he slammed the mug down. “What?” 

“Poor kid, sickly. With a widowed mother. Sounds the same to me,” Pepper said and played with Steve’s abandoned fork.

“We don’t know if the mother was widowed. No one said he was poor. Just sickly.” The coffee rolled around with the pancakes in Tony’s stomach.

Pepper held her head up with her hands. “The Protectorate knows you were a big Cap fan. They get a guy with a mysterious case of amnesia to guard you. They even name him Steve Rogers, though Commander Steve Rogers. It seems convenient to me that he’s not recalling these memories that play right into your fascination.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Which Protectorate?”

Pepper grimaced and shook her head. “Does it really matter? He’s a nice guy. Don’t get me wrong. He seems to have the best intentions at heart, but can you really trust him?”

Tony hit his hand on the countertop upsetting her. “God, Pepper, first you’re telling me to trust him and now, what the fuck? What do you want me to do?”

Pepper clasped his hand. “I just want you to be safe, Tony. Think things through. Ask questions but be careful with the answers.” She struggled back to her feet. “I’m going back to bed. Only call me if the house is on fire.”

Tony entered his bedroom to find Steve on the floor in his sleeping bag but his arm thrown over his face. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm.”

“You can use the bed,” Tony said.

“My back hurts. I need to lay on the floor.” He left his arm in place, covering his eyes. Before Tony turned to leave, Steve said, “I heard what Pepper said. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t trust me.” He dropped his arm. His eyes looked bloodshot. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re some super-secret spy or something.” Tony sat down on the floor next to Steve. “I think we’re both in the dark. That’s for sure.”

“Why would I tell you I’m Captain America?”

“Was your mother widowed?”

“I have no memory of my dad, so maybe?” Steve cupped his face with his hands. “I’m sorry Tony. Is there such a thing as implanted memories. Maybe they gave me these memories to lure you into something.”

Tony leaned back against the closed closet door. “It’s possible. I mean I’ve heard of implanted memories from the wars and stuff but why would they go to all this trouble.”

“It means they wiped my real memories too. All this stuff in my head is something made up from a comic book.” He sounded defeated to Tony like he wanted to sink into the carpet and fade away.

Tony reached out and touched his ankle. “Hey. We’ll figure this out. Seems like we’re both pawns in whatever game their playing. I think once we get to D.C., we might figure something out. In the meanwhile, I think you should talk to Clint.”

“Clint?” Steve faced Tony and he glimpsed hope in Steve’s eyes.

“He seems to know some things. I can’t tell you, but I think you should spend a little time with him. He’s not half as ridiculous as he pretends to be.” Tony patted Steve’s leg. “I’m gonna go do some work. You rest.” He got to his feet and went to the door.

A call stopped him. “Tony?”

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks for not just distrusting me. I appreciate that you’re giving me a chance,” Steve whispered.

Tony only nodded and slowly closed the bedroom door. Was he giving Steve a chance or was he just holding his ground until an in-depth hack and cracking of the SHIELD Protectorate intranet offered him answers? He blew out a lungful of air. Right now, he didn’t need to do anything at all. He needed to figure out what the hell he was going to present to Obie and Howard. 

“Jericho,” Tony muttered. He grabbed his laptop out of his bag and found comfort on the couch. He spent the next hours working through the designs and the math. At least, the math happened to be his happy place. About three hours into it he figured out a field of destruction wide enough to achieve critical mass. That was what his father liked to call causalities. He guessed it was better that way, thinking of the numerous people dead after a Jericho bomb would terrify his dreams. 

He stopped in mid-stroke. Should he even think about it? He bit his fingernail, gnawing at his thumb nail. His mother would yell at him, tell him to stop biting his nails; ‘cultured boys don’t do that, Anthony’. Was he cultured, refined if he was sitting here during his evening off calculating how to kill as many people as possible over a wide-spread area? He snapped closed the laptop and stood up, the shock a numbing thing. He walked almost dazed from the apartment and went directly to Thor’s apartment. He knocked.

Clint opened it. He drank a milkshake and looked like any frat boy with a bandage over the bridge of his nose. 

“What happened to you?”

“Fight. What are you doing here and where’s the Commander?” He peered past Tony into the hallway.

“Asleep. He had a headache.” Tony pushed into the apartment. “I need to talk to you.”

Clint closed and locked the door. “Did you say headache? He shouldn’t have headache.”

“Why? Is he immune? Is that even a thing?” Tony plopped onto the couch. The smaller living room had a two-seater couch and a recliner that looked like it had an ass impression on the cushion. “Did you hear me; I need to ask you a question.”

“What kind of question? And how sick is Steve?” Clint didn’t take a seat. In fact, he looked like he was about to spring into action.

“Where’s Thor?” 

“Talking to Jane. Now, my turn.” Clint curled his arms around his chest as if he was trying to stop himself from shaking apart with the need to jump into action. 

“That wasn’t my question!” Tony said. “No. Now you listen to me, what the hell is going on. You got me watching the news. Watching newsfeeds. Who does that these days? No one. News is filled with propaganda and falsified data. But you have me skimming the data and trying to figure out what the hell is going on. You have me keeping secrets from my bodyguard about his own body. Now you tell me what the hell is going on!”

“It’s not time for that,” Clint responded.

Tony rose to his feet and poked a finger at Clint’s chest. “What the hell? When is it time? What are you waiting for?” 

Clint dropped his arms and inhaled deeply. Releasing his breath, he said, “I can’t tell you.” He put his hands up to ward off Tony’s protests. “It’s not time. And it isn’t my place.”

“Then whose place is it? Because I’m going to SHIELD in the next few weeks and I want to make sure I talk to him or her. Is it Fury? That Natasha person? Or who, who else? The Secretary?” 

“What? You’re going to SHIELD?” Clint asked.

“Yeah. Planning on it, going for an early Thanksgiving and having some meetings. I need to know how to deal with this Protectorate. I need to know if giving them my ideas is a good thing or a terrible, terrible idea. I think you know the answer to that. I also think you know what’s going on with Steve and why someone dropped fake memories of Captain America’s life into his head. Let me in on some of the fucking information – I need to kn-.” 

A pounding on the door stopped Tony. Clint pressed a finger to his lips. 

In a whisper Tony said, “What? Assassins don’t knock.”

Clint cursed and strode to the door with his hand on the hilt of a knife at his belt. He waited a second before he opened it, but when he swung it opened his hand relaxed. “Commander.”

“Clint. I think you have my charge.”

Clint thumbed it over his shoulder. “He’s concerned for your welfare.”

Steve sidestepped Clint and marched straight to Tony. “Shit, Tony. I thought you pulled another run to Ty escape thing again. What the hell?”

“I told you I wanted to talk to Clint!” Tony replied. 

“You told me that you were going to work, and I figured it would be at home. I had to query Friday to trae you. Friday linked me up with your biometric signature. Your heart races like a bunny rabbit by the way you might want to find out what’s up with that.” He turned to Clint. “Sorry to disturb you. Thor hit you or something?” He indicated the bandage over the bridge of Clint’s nose.

“I wish. Natasha.”

Steve frowned in sympathy. “Sorry. That’s rough. She’s never nice to spar with.” 

“No, she is not.” 

“Come on Tony, let’s go back to the apartment. Sorry for the inconvenience Clint.” Steve steered Tony toward the door. 

He desperately wanted to stay and grill Clint so more, especially since he hadn’t gotten very far in his interrogation of the spy. He let Steve drag him away, though. As they made their way back to their apartment, Tony glowered and crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, it’s really suspicious that you can always find me and that right when I’m about to get something juicy you appear and puff it’s gone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said. He looked tired and beaten as if someone told him his puppy died. 

“This biometric tracer how sensitive is it.”

“It’s good enough. The selectivity kind of sucks, but if I get close enough, I can usually just hear your voice or smell your cologne and I’m go-.”

“What the fuck? You can smell my cologne through closed doors. What are you a dog or a Chihuahua?” Tony grumbled as they entered the apartment.

“Chihuahua are dogs,” Steve answered and tossed his gloves onto the counter. Tony eyed them – that’s where the disc was – the one with the imprint data. 

“Debatable,” Tony murmured but the argument faded away as his attention keyed in on the gloves. All he needed to do was get his hands on those gloves, just for a little bit. Tony licked his lips as he gazed at the gloves; the idea of analyzing those gloves gave him the same hunger as the idea of a chocolate sundae. “Why don’t you go back and lie down, you still look like death. I promise to hang out here and not leave.”

Steve studied him. “Promise?”

“Not going anywhere,” Tony said and put his hand on his heart. “Boy Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a Boy Scout, I read your file. You got kicked out.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t moving, felt like a freaking wall. 

Tony frowned. “Ah! I got kicked out because I built a tower to amplify my phone while camping so I could connect with the outside world. Technically, I was a boy scout! So it’s not like I wanted to get kicked out.”

Steve’s shoulders sank and he pressed his hand to the back of his neck. “You make my head hurt. You promise?”

Tony flicked a glance at the gloves and then back to Steve. He crossed his heart. “Absolutely.”

Steve turned around and headed to the master bedroom but stopped in his tracks. He spun around, went to the counter, picked up the gloves, huffed at Tony, and then went back to the bedroom. 

“Son of a bitch,” Tony muttered. Finding out what the fuck was going on without the data made it nearly impossible. This trip to D.C. was his main focus now. 

He spent the rest of the evening working on the design plans of his mythical Jericho. He actually worked out quite a bit, but all the time he felt unease and wished that Steve would appear at the door of the bedroom. He didn’t. Tony checked on him a few times. He was zonked. How anyone could sleep that long, Tony didn’t know. 

Pepper emerged late that night, her eyes bleary but her step a little less woozy. She fell onto the couch after retrieving a water bottle from the fridge. Leaning back, she closed her eyes. “Please don’t let me drink like that again.”

“You were nowhere to be found during the party. What the hell were you up to anyway?” 

“I met someone,” Pepper giggled and sipped the water. “It was glorious.”

“Do tell?” Tony put his computer to the side. 

Pepper sat up and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She laughed again; her cheeks rosy. “I never did it with a girl before, but she just made me so relaxed. It was a rush.”

“What’s her name? What does she look like?”

“She’s all muscles, but not masculine like. Almost dancer like. She has this fiery red hair and full lips. And oh those lips can do such wicked things, Tony.” She laughed a little hysterically. “I can’t believe what I did with her.”

“What?” Tony slumped back into the cushion. “Don’t tell me her name was Natasha.”

“She called herself Natalie,” Pepper said. “So no.” 

Tony stood up. “She about yay tall, green blue eyes. Looks like she knows your secrets even before you know her name.”

“Oh,” Pepper said and furrowed her brows. Her perky nose wrinkled up like she smelled something bad. “Do you know her?”

Tony stalked off into the master bedroom, flicked on the light, and threw a pillow at Steve’s head. “Wake up, you traitor!”

“Hmm? What?” Steve rolled over from sleeping on his stomach. “What’s going on?” He blinked several times. He wore the fingerless gloves. “Is someone here? Are you in danger?”

“No, but you are!” Tony picked up the lamp while Pepper appeared in the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Pepper asked.

Steve pushed up to sit and shook his head. “What’s going on?”

“Natasha was at the party last night. She fucked my friend-.”

“Hey I didn’t say she did that? God, Tony, what the hell are you talking about. We made out a little. She was hot. She’s a good kisser but that’s it,” Pepper said. “What do you think of me?”

Tony put his hand up to silence her. She growled in response, but he ignored it. “What the hell, Steve. Why was a SHIELD spy at a student party?”

“I was at the party and so was Clint. We’re all SHIELD Protectorate. Clint is an actual spy, too.” Steve climbed out of the bed. When he switched from the floor to the bed, Tony didn’t know. “If Natasha was there, no one told me. I doubt she was. You’re mixing her up with someone else. I doubt she would seduce your friend.”

“You doubt that. God!” Tony jerked around and then glared at Steve. “I was feeling sorry for you, but now, now I don’t even know if I should trust you.”

“Tony, please. I don’t know anything about Natasha being there, or what she may have been doing if she was there. I apologize. I’m as out of the loop as you are,” Steve said. “I’ll ask Clint. Just hold on a minute.” He got his phone from the nightstand and turned his back on Tony to call Clint. 

Tony shared a concerned look with Pepper, though she seemed unfazed by the events. She only shrugged and went to the kitchen. He heard the clatter of pans as she started to prepare a meal, though Tony had no idea what time it was. He watched her as she chopped veggies and threw them into a blender. He blanched; he hated those veggie smoothies she forced him to drink. Never should anyone ever drink anything green that wasn’t alcoholic and even then, it was questionable. 

“Tony?”

He turned back to face Steve. “Yeah?”

“Clint said she was there. I’ll apologize to Pepper. I don’t think it was appropriate for Natasha to be there or to use Pepper as a tool to find out how you and I are doing.” Steve looked positively horrified by the news. He slumped past Tony and went to the kitchen to apologize. 

Tony stayed away, remained frozen in place. What the hell was Natasha doing? She was checking to see if Tony and Steve were working out, that they paired up. “Steve?” Steve moved to Tony’s call. “Maybe, Natasha is making sure we’re a team.”

“I don’t follow?”

“Well, something is definitely up. From Clint to Natasha and you’re not in on it. At least I don’t think you are. So, they know something’s going on and Natasha was checking to make sure you’re dedicated to me.”

“Yeah, she asked a lot of questions. In between all the kissing,” Pepper said and swooned a little. “I did not know anyone could kiss like that.”

“What kind of questions?” Steve asked. 

Pepper flipped the switch for the blender and waited until it finished before she answered, “Mainly if you and Tony were good for one another. If Tony was watching out for Steve. If Steve was watching out for Tony. That kind of thing. I thought it was weird because really, isn’t Steve here to be your bodyguard and not the other way around.” She started to collect the glasses from the cupboard. She poured three glasses and Tony grimaced. “You’ll drink it.” 

“I had pancakes.”

“A million years ago.” She slid the thick green drink over to him. “Drink it.”

Steve took his glass without complaint. “I don’t get it either.” He drank the disgusting green goop. He kept his face frozen as he gulped it down. He finished it in one long swallow. The lack of gag reflex amazed and tantalized Tony. 

“Well, maybe they need to protect you. Considering.” Tony muttered as he sipped the vile liquid.

“Protect me? I don’t think so. That’s my job.” Steve quirked his brows. “What do you mean considering?”

Tony weighed the evidence. The possibilities laid out before him, which path he could pick. It clarified. Steve wasn’t a threat, but he was in the same boat as Tony. Out of the loop and utilized by some nefarious unseen forces. “Considering the scar on your back.”

“Wh-what?” The puzzled look on Steve’s face would have been funny if it wasn’t so fucking horrific that he didn’t even know what was going on with his own body. 

Knowing he broke confidence with Clint gave Tony pause, but he committed. With a sigh, Tony said, “I saw it the other day when you took off your shirt in the bathroom. Your back has a long scar on it, along the vertebrae.”

“Vertebrae,” Steve said in a drugged like tone. 

Pepper walked into Tony’s space. “Tony?”

“I think you need to see,” Tony said. He waved Steve into the bathroom while asking Pepper to go and get a second mirror. She nodded and raced to her room. It took a few seconds before Steve moved as if his body refused the truth. He followed Tony into the master bath. 

Pepper slipped the mirror on the counter and stepped back into the doorway. “Do you want me to leave?”

Steve only shook his head as he tugged off his shirt. He turned his back to the long mirror and then Tony offered him the hand mirror. Steve gripped it and raised his hand, staring into the oval shape as he examined the long ugly scar along his spine. Tony watched as Steve’s grasp tightened around the handle of the mirror. 

“Are you okay?” Tony asked, his voice low.

The handle cracked and the mirror spilled to the floor, shattering. Steve jerked out of his haze. “God, I’m sorry!” He bent down to pick up the shards. 

“I’ll get the dustpan and broom,” Pepper whispered and left.

“I’m so stupid,” Steve muttered as he gathered up the prickly shards. Tony knelt next to him.

“How are you stupid?”

“I trusted SHIELD. What the hell did they do to me?” Steve said and cursed as he punctured his palm. 

Tony scrambled to get the gauze and bandages. Steve stood up and went to the sink, turning on the faucet and rinsing the blood away. “What the hell did they do?” 

Pepper had returned and swept up the mess of the mirror. She chimed in, “If you ask me the scar looks fresh, still.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked.

“If you look at the scar it’s not years old. It’s pretty fresh. You can still see the healing ridge of the scar.”

Tony frowned. “That’s not how it looked the other day-.” He gulped back his words. “What the hell?”

“What?” Steve stopped cleaning his wound. He peered over his shoulder. 

Tony studied the long ridge of the scar; it looked puffy and almost angry. “Doesn’t it hurt?” Tony touched the scar without asking, running his hand up and down the wound. 

“Sometimes when I lie down my back hurts, but they said I sustained injuries and it was expected.” 

“Who told you that?” Tony asked.

“Clint, Fury,” Steve said and very nearly fell, but Tony grabbed his arm and led him back to the bedroom. Pepper finished cleaning up the mess of the broken mirror and discarded the remnants of it before returning to join them in the bedroom. Steve looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m sorry for breaking your mirror. I’m sorry you had to clean it up.”

She waved him off and sat on the other side of him on the bed. Tony sat on his left. Tony took Steve’s left hand while Pepper reached for his right. She turned it over and pressed the gauze to his palm. 

“What did they do to me? How was I injured? Why isn’t it staying healed?” Steve murmured. 

“We’ll figure it out. We go to D.C. in two weeks. We’re going to find out what the hell is going on. We come up with a plan. A real plan. Clint keeps hinting that something’s going on and he’s never going to come out and say it. But if I can get into their intranet, I can find out what they are planning,” Tony said. He squeezed Steve’s hand with assurance. “I know I can find it.”

“What is going on?” Pepper said as pulled the gauze away. 

Pristine. 

“There’s no wound,” Tony said and yanked Steve’s hand to see. “What the hell?” Then he leaned back and examined the scar on Steve’s back. It looked a few weeks old. No older. But Tony had seen it as a thin white scar, barely visible. “So, you have miraculous healing here but not on your back?”

“None of this makes any sense.” Steve straightened his shoulder as he emerged from his shocked stupor. “You’re right, Tony. We go to SHIELD, we find out what happened to me, but we especially find out what they want with you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“There’s a reason I was assigned to you. There’s a reason all of this is happening. We have to go to SHIELD, and we have to figure out what the hell is going on. But you have to realize, first and foremost, I’m your bodyguard. You are my priority.” He got to his feet and went to the bathroom to retrieve his shirt.

“You said that – about the priority thing – before.”

“Well, believe me. You’re important. I know this in my bones.”

“Well, that’s scary.” Pepper went to the kitchen and grabbed her smoothie. She sipped it and grimaced which Tony wanted to celebrate, but kept his mouth shut. 

“What’s the plan?” Tony asked and clapped his hands. “Because I’m ready.”

TEN DAYS LATER

Tony’s mother greeted him as he walked off the private jet. She had her hair up in a bun and her eyes were bright with happiness. It was the first time Tony actually felt as if he was coming home – which was ironic considering the fact that he officially entered the zone of the SHIELD Protectorate. 

“Oh Tony, I missed you so much. You off there in the Open Class. It’s so dangerous, you know.” She held him at an arms’ length. “Let me see if you’re okay. Are you okay? Was the water clean? Were there homeless shooting up on the streets?”

“Mom, please,” Tony said and rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t you do that to me. Being in an Open Class region is tantamount to living in the jungle!” She claimed him again, holding him close and rocking back and forth like he was a babe in her arms. 

He struggled away and gestured to Pepper. “Mom, this is Pepper Potts.”

“Pepper? What an odd name,” Maria said but smiled and pecked Pepper on each cheek. “My son tells me you’re dating.”

Pepper glared at Tony but quickly recovered with smile and a nod. “Yep, dating. And my name is actually Virginia, but no one calls me that.”

“Oh dear, but it’s a beautiful name,” Maria said and pulled both Tony and Pepper into her arms. “It’s cold and it’s supposed to snow today. So, let’s get in the car.” She hooked their arms with hers. “Tell your bodyguard to get the suitcases. He can come in the other car, I have my own guard-.”

“That won’t do, Ma’am,” Steve said as he stepped up to stand directly behind them. “My job is to protect Mister Stark. I cannot be in a separate vehicle.” 

Maria huffed but agreed. “Fine, but you can sit up in front with Happy.” 

“As you wish, Ma’am.” Steve made a quick bow and headed to the trunk of the limousine with the bags.

“It’s not as I wish. I don’t want him around. I told your father it wasn’t a good idea to trust our only son’s welfare to a SHIELD spy, but he never listens.” Maria’s cheeks reddened with anger.

“That’s because he sees me as a commodity,” Tony muttered as they went to the car and Happy opened the door. “Hey Happy!”

“Tony, nice to see you again.”

Maria interjected, “Happy I expressly told you about familiarity.”

Tony rolled his eyes over his mother’s shoulder as Happy expressed his apology. “Nice to see you Mister Stark.”

Maria sighed and climbed into the vehicle. “The new order of things will change all that.” She settled. 

“New order?” Pepper asked as Tony clasped her hand in his own. He knew it wouldn’t be comfortable for her, but it would be a way to silently communicate. Surprisingly, Pepper clung to him as if she’d entered an alien world and he acted as her guide.

“With the coming announcements, the world is a different place, dear. We have to be prepared for the laws to change, for expectations to change,” Maria said and smiled at them. Her expression was not unkind, but her distance chilled Tony to the core. 

Over the years, Tony never blamed the dysfunction of his family on his mother, but now he glimpsed the truth. His mother’s best intentions were rooted in an elite misunderstanding of the world at large. She thought the world without the defensive shell of the Protectorates presented a dangerous, nightmare place. She refused to see the wonder, the possibilities, the potentials of freedom. She only recognized the risks of freedom. 

“What kind of expectations?” Tony asked, though he didn’t want to know. Pepper did. 

“The Protectorates have expectations. Right, honey? You can’t cross the line. You must stay in your lane. It makes everyone safer and helps to keep the order and safety of the Protectorate. It’s the way it’s going to be-.” She stopped when she witnessed the draining of color in Pepper’s face. “What is it, sweetie? Are you ill?”

Happy navigated the car from the airport. For a moment, Tony envied Steve – sitting up front with Happy, probably just shooting the breeze. Part of Tony died inside, thinking of the world graying out because of the homogeneity demanded by the Protectorates. He turned when he heard Maria ask if Pepper was sick.

“No, Ma’am,” Pepper said nearly eating her words. 

Maria leaned over toward Pepper from her bench seat in the limousine. She patted Pepper’s knee. “You’re from the Open Class. You’ll get it. You’ll understand how it works soon enough. From what I understand all the Open Class areas are either joining a Protectorate or Incorporating as well.”

Pepper side-eyed Tony but only murmured a yes ma’am at his mother. Thankfully, the rest of the ride was silent with only an occasional commentary by his mother pointing out a place of historical importance. The Triskelion rose up in their windows, a tower on the shores of the Potomac. The imposing building shadowed all else with its monolithic appearance. 

“We’re going directly to the Triskelion?” Tony asked.

“Oh no,” Maria answered. “We have a house on the campus. Much more secure considering the position of your father.”

“Not sure what that means,” Tony groused.

Maria smiled. Her eyes were deep and abiding to his childish ways. “Dear Tony. Understand, please, that this is a new world. Your father, you - you’re royalty or as close to it as you’ll ever get in America.”

“I’m surprised Dad let you welcome us then,” Tony replied.

“I had to fight him for it. But we have an entourage of six heavily armored SUVs. So, I suppose that was enough for him. Plus, my position has been downgraded.” She looked everywhere but at Tony, her hands wrapping around one another. Her heavily ringed fingers looked knobby and arthritic to him for the first time.

“Your position? What the-.”

“Watch your language, young man,” Maria cut him off.

“What does that even mean?”

Maria cleared her throat. She sat up straighter, stiffer, rigid in her posture. “It means, I’m too old.” While she attempted to keep her tone neutral, Tony detected the acidic taint to it. “It means your father has chosen to ensure his lineage. Since you went gone off to MIT to study and not show your loyalty to the Protectorate, your father along with Obie have decided it’s time for him to find another way to ensure his line.” 

Tony glanced between Pepper and his mother, a roaring in his head like a train coming down to crash into his house of cards. “What the hell? He’s looking for a young-.”

“Your father is looking for a new wife. He’s officially divorced me. I’m not,” Maria said, inhaling and exhaling audibly. “I’m considered only his companion and Mother to the First Son of the Protectorate. If you leave the Protectorate, then I will be sent to retirement.”

“Fuck! You’re not a racehorse!” The rage shook through him. Now, he understood the whole reason for the ‘Thanksgiving’ dinner, the ‘family’ celebration. It was to put him on notice. His mother’s life was in his hands. If he did anything to cut his ties to the Protectorate, who knew what would happen to his mother. While she might be a little shallow in her understanding of world freedoms and liberties, she was his mother. Her love of literature, or art, all sewed within him to open his eyes over the years to the potential of things outside of the Protectorate. 

Maria patted his hand and her features softened like when he was a child with a split lip. “It’s okay, Tony. It’s better this way. The pressures of the Protectorate aren’t mine to deal with anymore. It’s easier. Far easier for me.” 

He wanted to believe her, but he heard the pain beneath her words. Whatever attracted her to Howard in the first place had kept her by his side through all the ups and downs of their relationship. She loved him, Tony knew that, but never understood it. Now, Howard stripped her away from him for prestige and some asinine idea of inheritance. “I’ll talk to him.”

She squeezed his free hand. “No. No, you won’t. I’ve agreed. It’s done. It’s better this way.”

“It’s not better, not even close, Ma!” Tony protested but it was too late. He knew it. Pepper sat there with her eyes downcast – she knew it. 

The world changed. It felt like they rode the waves of plate tectonics. The landmasses of their lives were splitting apart and they had no say in the matter. The forces were beyond their control. 

“Now, here we are.” 

They passed a gate after Happy gave proper identification and then he drove them further across the official Headquarters of the SHIELD Protectorate campus. It sprawled out along the Potomac River. Tony spotted the looming Triskelion but there was also several more Towers along the banks of the water. None of them were as tall as the Triskelion but the SHIELD Protectorate had been busy. 

They headed toward the district of the campus dedicated to living quarters. “We’ll be staying here.” His mother pointed to the large post-modern house with its huge windows and sloping frame. It looked like a mash between a contemporary house and a 1960s porno mansion. Of course, his father would love it. His mother hated it; he was sure. She liked more delicate things. 

“Come,” Maria said as Happy parked the car and opened the door for her. 

Tony pressed his lips together as if to seal away the whole conversation. When he got out of the car, Steve had already retrieved their luggage and loaded it up on his back and shoulders. Tony went to relieve him of a bag, but his mother stopped him.

“Don’t interfere with the work of the help, dear. Your father won’t like it.”

“Fuck that, there’s too much!” Tony moved to lift a satchel from Steve’s shoulder, but his mother stayed his hand.

“I know how you feel, but this is how things are. This is how things are going to be from now on. You must accept it. I’ve been working with the entire staff trying to get everyone prepared. Don’t show to your father that my work has been in vain.” 

Steve grabbed the bag back, though Tony had no idea how he managed it. Thankfully, Pepper stepped up and said, “This is my purse. I can take that?” She glanced at Tony’s mother for direction and approval. She gave a brief nod and Pepper took the satchel from Steve. Happy joined them and went to Steve to unburden him of another bag. 

The wide double doors opened. To Tony’s untrained eyes the doors look metal and utilitarian. Gray metal with rivets. It was ugly. Surely, his mother didn’t pick out the house. Reading his mind, Maria said, “Your father likes this place. Not my cup of tea, but it’s close to the Secretary’s residence.”

“Of course,” Tony muttered and followed his mother up the concrete steps to be greeted by Jarvis. He hadn’t expected to see his old friend. “Jarvis!” Tony rushed up the stairs and embraced Jarvis. “It’s great to see you!”

“Tony! What did I just say?” Maria said. “Please! Your father might see.” 

Jarvis extricated himself from Tony’s arms. In a low voice he said, “We’ll catch up later.”

Tony smiled. “Always good to see you.” He straightened his shirt and waved for Jarvis to lead them into the horrendous house. 

It was as cold and barren as Tony imagined it to be. The foyer greeted them as a large empty space, painted spartan white. The tiled floor was a black marble. No columns or decorations were apparent. Tony told himself it was because this wasn’t their house, this was a rental. Of course, it would be sterile and barren, though there had been many other houses rented throughout the years that presented in a more comfortable cozy way. 

“This way,” Jarvis said and led them through the sweeping arch to the main living room. White furniture, glass tables and a state of the art comm hub impressed Tony, but what really drew his consideration was the empty walls. He turned to Jarvis.

“Our rooms?”

“Your room with Ms. Potts is upstairs. Commander Rogers will be bunking in the servant quarters.”

Steve interrupted. “I’m afraid that won’t be acceptable, sir. I am his bodyguard and, as such, I need to remain close to him at all times.”

Jarvis glanced at Tony’s mother who only nodded once. He wondered if this was a test for Steve. “Of course.” He ushered them through the living room to the staircase finished with wrought iron railing and marble. 

Tony was surprised that Howard hadn’t insisted on a house with an elevator, the lazy son of a bitch. His mother didn’t follow them upstairs, but instead, excused herself with a comment about how she had to prepare for dinner. Tony’s anger about what his father had done to his mother seethed but he went with Jarvis to his room. When Jarvis opened the door, he led them into the suite of rooms that included a living room, a bedroom with a king-sized bed and an ensuite. The spartan decorations mirrored what Tony had glimpsed downstairs. 

“Now I must see to the kitchen staff,” Jarvis said.

“J?”

“Yes Anthony?”

Tony reddened. Jarvis loved to call him by his full name. It was never a reprimand but always a sign of kindness and caring. “Jarvis, when did Dad divorce Mom?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony.

“Just recently. When it became clear that you would stay at MIT, he decided that he needed to ensure his line. The new changes to the geopolitical situation did hasten it.” 

“How’s mom doing?”

“As well as can be expected. She’s very loyal to her family, perhaps to a fault.” Jarvis smiled and laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Now, I should get back. It is good to see you, son.” Happy trailed Jarvis out with only a distant look on his face. It sank into Tony’s soul like a stone in a dark lake.

Tony watched him go, his heart ricocheting in his chest. Jarvis, Ana, his mother – these were people he cared about deeply. His father stepped all over them to reach the top, just to grab on to momentary fame and fortune. Was all of it worth it? The bug to constantly succeed had been a buzz in Tony’s ear for as long as he remembered. Getting rid of it was unnatural for him. The idea that it cause him to manipulate and use the ones he loved for gain sickened him. Would he ever be that shallow?

“Tony?” Pepper stood next to him, her hand lightly on his shoulder just where Jarvis had placed his hand. 

“I’m okay, but we have a bigger problem.”

Steve dropped the bags as Pepper placed the satchel on the table near the door. 

Tony raised a finger and then pulled out his phone. He tapped a few commands into it and then nodded. “Friday put up a perimeter around us. It should scramble any listening devices in the room.”

“Won’t they figure that out?” Steve asked.

“Sure, but if they confronted me about it, they would have to admit they were doing it,” Tony said. “Now, we have a big problem. Howard is going to use my mother as a bargaining chip. If I do anything to risk the Protectorate, then he’s going to retire her. And I don’t know what the fuck that means.” He sank down onto the couch. It was stiff and uncomfortable. 

“There’s no choice, Tony. You don’t do it. It’s not worth trying to figure out what SHIELD is doing to me, if it means risking your mother’s life,” Steve replied. He didn’t sit, but Pepper did, next to Tony.

“We came here to figure out what the hell is going on. How you fit into this whole thing.” Tony cradled his head in his hands. His brain fogged over with the enormity of his father’s deceit. “He knows I will never put my mom at risk.”

“Then he’s not all that good of a chess player, is he?” Steve said and finally sat opposite Tony on the low backed chair. He leaned forward; hands clasped together elbows on his knees.

Tony looked up. “I don’t follow you.”

“It’s an obvious move. That’s not how championship chess players do it, is it? I remember playing chess and I always tried to make sure the winning move would come out of nowhere.” 

“That’s not always easy,” Tony said while Pepper jumped into comment, “How?”

“You have to play along Tony. With everything. You have to show that you’re scared for your mother, but don’t over play it. They’ll be watching for that. You have to ask the right questions.” Steve gathered them close and they all bent over as he spoke. He quizzed Tony on how much he knew about SHIELD, how many times he’d been to the Triskelion. He asked about Obie and his trustworthiness. He tested both Pepper and Tony on their ability to have a poker face and chided them when they failed to pull it off. By the end of the afternoon, exhaustion seeped into Tony’s joints and all he wanted to do nap, but they’d been summoned for dinner.

“Are you ready?” Steve asked as Tony finished dressing. Pepper was in the bathroom putting on her ‘face’ as she called it. 

“I think.”

“This is just the beginning. You have to show to them that they’ve won, but that you don’t like it. You can’t be out of character,” Steve advised. 

“It’s amazing how you’re such a good strategist and you can’t remember your first-grade teacher’s name.”

Steve raised a brow. “Does anyone?”

“Point.” Tony straightened his tie just for something to do. He focused on the mundane things so that the reality settling on his shoulders like the world on Atlas didn’t crush him. Thankfully, Pepper exited the bathroom and took his breath away. “Pep!”

She had on a beautiful off the shoulder blue dress that kissed her body showing all of her curves. The heels weren’t outlandish, and he knew she picked them so that their height difference wouldn’t be too pronounced. She’d done her hair in a simple updo. 

“Do you think it’s okay?” She smoothed her hand down the seam of her dress.

“Fabulous,” Tony said and took her into his arms. “If I wasn’t ragingly gay, I would definitely be falling over, swooning for you.” 

“Well how’s a girl ever going to deal with compliments like that?” She teased him with a peck on the cheek. “Ready?”

“As I will ever be,” Tony said and tugged on the lapel of his jacket. “Here we go.”

They left the suite with Steve trailing behind them. He was in a more formal uniform, but still wore the fingerless gloves. Once they descended the staircase, one of the staff whom Tony didn’t recognize escorted them to the dining room. For a second when they entered the room, it reminded Tony of the classic flick ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ when Han and company confront Darth Vader over dinner in the Cloud City. Tony’s father played the role of Vader. 

“Dad.” Tony ushered Pepper to meet his father. “Pepper, this is my father, Howard. Howard, my girlfriend, Pepper.”

Howard, with his wickedly similar mustache to a comic book villain, took Pepper’s hand and kissed it. “It’s good to meet you. I’m pleased that you seem to have diverted my son from his misconceived notion of being homosexual. He’s always gone for the power of shocking the media, although these days being gay doesn’t hold much power.”

Pepper side-eyed Tony but nodded to her father. “You must be very proud of Tony. He’s the best student-.”

“In an Open Class school. Yes, we know.” Howard dismissed her and turned to Tony. “Your bodyguard is not allowed to sit at the table. Surely you understand that he’s staff and not family.” 

“Steve sits with me all the time when I eat,” Tony retorted and wanted to launch into full attack mode, but Steve stopped him.

“Of course, Mister Stark. I do request that I am permitted to stay in the room.”

“You’ll have to eat after with all the other servants, but that’s fine.” Howard glowered at Tony. “You see, even he knows his place.” 

Tony cursed under his breath but let Steve step away from the table. He stood directly behind Tony but with enough room to allow the servers to pass. 

“Now, can we do introductions?” Howard sat down as did the rest of the guests. Howard clasped the hand of a young woman with long blonde hair and steely blue eyes. “This is Kate.”

“Kate, just Kate,” Tony snapped. He saw his mother sitting at the far end of the table, but not at the opposing head, to the side like she was a cast off. 

“Remember your manners, son,” Howard said and why did the word son sound like an insult with his father said it but an endearment when Jarvis used it? “Kate is a nurse. She’s staying with us during our visit here.”

“Kate,” Tony said like a veiled threat. He didn’t have to pretend of hate her, he already did. 

“A nurse?” Pepper tried to smooth things over. “What kind of nurse?”

“Right now, I’m doing a rotation in the infection disease ward.”

“Oh, that’s not something we want to talk about at dinner,” Obie said as he entered the dining room. “Sorry I’m late. I was working on our press release. We’re going big and public with your Jericho design, Tones.”

“Is that wise? We don’t even have a patent yet,” Tony said. According to technology transfer experts releasing information prior to filing for a patent made it damned near impossible to get the patent and to profit off it. 

“No problems here. We worked that angle. I want you to go to the Middle East with me. There’s a lot going on. We might be setting up a satellite Protectorate there. I – we need to show dominance.” Obie sat down and placed his hands on his large belly. “So, tell me, son, when do we see the plans.”

“Soon,” Tony said and swallowed down the bile. A satellite Protectorate?

“Get me those plans ASAP. We want to start production before the holidays. We could literally put it on the line by Spring.” Obie clapped his hands again. “This is going to be our year!”

“Obie, we haven’t even done any of the planning yet, or the tests on it. I haven’t worked out the system engineering design or anything. Just basics, the math-.”

Obie beamed at him. “Son, trust the math. I trust you. Don’t you, Howard. You trust Tony, right?”

“Of course,” Howard said while not actually looking at Tony. “Implicitly.”

Tony swallowed down a curse as his father blatantly flirted with the nurse across the table. Peering to the side, Tony noticed his mother and how she kept her eyes averted, her head bowed. Even though his parents were never the most loving people, he’d always thought that Howard loved his mother. Always. Now, he tormented her and put her through this fucking shit. What else would he do in his power grab? He was setting up satellite Protectorates. This wasn’t just about profit anymore, this was about spreading and winning and becoming a world power. It sickened Tony.

As the servants brought out the first course of their fake Thanksgiving dinner, Tony asked, “So Dad. Are you and mom planning on going to the Caribbean this Christmas?” He stared at Howard’s hand as it clasped Kate’s slim fingers.

“Oh, no. Dear,” Maria answered. “No. I’m planning on going to see some of my childhood friends in New York. Your father is much too busy for beach vacations.”

“Much too busy,” Tony echoed. He gripped his fork and wanted to stab the fucking appetizer that he couldn’t even identify through the red glare of anger. 

“Kate and I will be handling some of the Protectorate business. Surely, your mother explained the current situation?” Howard said. He stroked Kate’s hand and Tony caught the barest glimpse of disgust on the young woman’s face. 

Great, now he had to worry about gold diggers.

His ire rose up like a constrained dragon. Howard talked about his mother like she was an old hag, garbage to be thrown away. Society hated older woman and Howard led the way. Tony curled his fingers around the cloth napkin. “So that’s the way it is. You put mom out to pasture and flaunt your bimbos in front of her face?” 

“Now, Tony, that’s rude,” his mother said but Tony detected a touch of pride in her voice. 

“Tony, you apologize to Kate. She’s a respectable nurse working with the SHIELD Protectorate.” Howard banged the table so that the utensils jumped. “This is your fault, young man. If you hadn’t decided to traipse around in the Open Class – go all the way across the country to be with the hoodlums and thieves of this country, then this wouldn’t have been necessary.” He turned to the nurse. “I’m sorry, my dear. My son is ignorant in ways of civil society.”

“I’m still performing like the good little engineer for you,” Tony spat back. 

“Producing for the company is one thing, Tony,” Howard stated, his eyes darkly stern. “Being loyal to your family is another thing. Your mother understands, don’t you Maria.”

“Understand? What the fuck does that mean?” Tony shoved the plate away, nearly knocking over the glass of wine. “I’ve been loyal. I asked for some of my freedom. That’s all. I’m still at your beck and call!” 

“Tony, Tony. Please Tony,” Obie interrupted. His voice softened the mood in the dining room. “Let’s all be reasonable. Your family has a legacy. With the Protectorates and their holdings coming into geopolitical power, you must see that the family’s holdings must be protected. You’ve expressed your intentions about your freedom several times. We needed to secure the future of the Protectorate.”

“Plus, your tendency to shun the female companion,” Howard snarled. “I’m sorry, Ms. Potts but I hardly believe you’re my son’s girlfriend.”

Pepper sputtered to answer but Tony took the bull by the horns. “You’re right, Howard. Pepper’s not my girlfriend. If you really want to know Commander Rogers sleeps in my bed with me. That’s why he shouldn’t be standing behind me but at the table.” Tony knew that playing the fake boyfriend card was a dangerous one, but he hated his father so much at that moment that seeing straight and thinking rationally wasn’t an option. 

“Commander?” Howard stood up. “Is this true? Have you molested my child?”

“What? Of course not!” Steve said, his voice threatening.

“But you’re not his girlfriend,” Howard said and gazed at Pepper. “I thought for a moment when you walked in it might be true, that you were. But it’s clear my son doesn’t understand duty to his family or our legacy. Your mother does-.”

“And you put her out to pasture like a god damned cow,” Tony screamed.

“Tony, watch your language!” Obie climbed to his feet and went to insert himself between Tony and Howard, but Steve stepped in his way, shielding Tony from either of them. 

“You’re not going to produce an heir, so I have to,” Howard hissed. “You want to get it up the ass? Fine! I don’t care, but I swear to God, Tony, don’t stand in my way. If you do, I will ensure-.” He stopped then and shared a glance with Obie as if their plan to hurt his mother hadn’t been clear to Tony. 

Tony opened his mouth to respond when the door to the dining room opened. Everyone at the table turned to the new arrivals. SHIELD agents. Tony swore under this breath.

Rumlow with his groupies. 

“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” Rumlow said. “I’ve come to collect the Commander. He’s to report to SHIELD for debriefing and medical review.”

“What?” Tony said and flicked his gaze at Obie to see if he had anything to do with it. The man he once called uncle and felt closer to than his father only shook his head. Tony refused to let Steve out of his sight. “Steve’s not going anywhere.”

“Agent Rumlow, I am not leaving my post,” Steve confirmed as his jaw muscle twitched.

Tony agreed. Clint told him not to allow Steve anywhere near Rumlow and his team. Tony needed to stop this charade immediately. Steve couldn’t leave. If he left, Tony might never see him again. Worried, he glimpsed Steve – emotions shifted over his features. One that Tony instantly recognized was fear – but not for himself – for Tony. Reaching out, Tony grasped Steve’s arm. “No. He’s not going anywhere.”

“I have my orders. You’re overdue for your physical, Commander. The doctors want to check on your progress.” Rumlow shrugged his shoulders. “Your little charge there will be safe. We’re all on the same team.” He winked at Tony. “You’re on SHIELD property, there’s not a safer place on the planet.”

“No.” Tony stood up and grabbed Steve’s hand. “You’re not taking him.”

“Tony, it’s okay.” Steve patted Tony’s hand, trying to quell the situation. “I’ll go. You just have dinner and I’ll be back.”

“It might take a while,” Rumlow said. He checked his wristband. “We gotta go, Rogers.”

“I’m coming,” Steve said. “But first I have to ensure Tony will be safe.”

Tony shook his head. He needed to get Steve alone. He yanked at him. “Just a minute. I need to talk to him for a minute, alone.” He dragged Steve around the table, pushing past Rumlow and his team, and into the hallway. He scanned the area and decided the kitchen would be the best bet. Leading Steve to the bustling kitchen, Tony hauled him into the pantry and shut the door. 

“You can’t go.”

“I have to, Tony. I still work for SHIELD. They hold my commission and my debt.” He put his hands up as if to calm Tony. “It’s not a big deal. You are on SHIELD property. Everything will be okay.”

“I’m not talking about me; I’m talking about you.” Tony ran his hand through his hair. There wasn’t enough time. All this cloak and dagger shit and he had no idea still what kind of game they were playing or even what the rules might be. “Clint said you can’t go with Rumlow. That I was to keep you away from him. You’re in danger, right now. Steve, you can’t go. Please don’t go.”

Steve chewed on his lip and shook his head. “If I don’t go then they’ll know we suspect something. I don’t have a choice. Tony, I have to keep you safe. That’s the only thing that I am absolutely certain of. It’s all that’s important.”

Tony ground his teeth. “Stop saying that.” He grunted and then stifled a frustrated shout. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your oddly appealing devotion to me, but the fact is, SHIELD is holding something secret from you. They did something to you and took your memories. You can’t go with Rumlow. It’s like walking into the viper’s nest.”

“But Clint is SHIELD too and you trust him,” Steve pointed out. 

“That’s different,” Tony said. He closed his eyes and, for a second, all the players transformed into numbers and variables, controls in an equation that refused to be solved. “Clint, Natasha, I think they are people we can trust. Not Rumlow. Please Steve.” He clasped Steve’s hands in his own. “Please don’t go with him.”

Steve held on firmly. “I have to, Tony. But I’m coming back. I swear to you. You keep to the plan. Get into SHIELD, get into their intranet. Find out what they are doing. If they did something to me and then assigned me to you – that means you’re part of their plan, too.”

Tony sighed, the weight of terror, pressed down on him. It crushed his hopes. He relented. “Okay, okay. But you have to stay in contact. Please.”

“I will.”

FOUR DAYS LATER

Tony stared down at the vivisected body of Steve Rogers. It was over. Everything he’d found out, everything he knew didn’t matter now. Steve was dead. The stainless-steel walls of the lab, the table, the black tiled floor – it reverberated with his gasping breathes. In his hand he held the data stick. He’d hacked the intranet. He downloaded the data, but it didn’t matter anymore because Steve was dead. 

Tony shivered.

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in the lab. What drew him here had been a comment in one of the data files he’d pulled. He hadn’t even had the time to evaluate any of the materials but saw a remark in one folder. It drew his attention because it was dated yesterday, the last day Tony had received a text message from Steve. The data entry made little sense, but it frightened the hell out of Tony.

_Subject 070418-012 showing signs of failure. Review of previous anatomy and physiology specimens show augmentation failure due to serum. Augmentation version 3.12 showing signs of degradation. Serum re-activation. Subject 070418-012 must be recalled and deactivated for further study. Related Subject 052970 must be reassigned. HH._

Who the hell was HH and what the hell were they doing? Augmentation failure? Serum? It sounded like some bad science fiction. Yet, it drew Tony to the morgue lab. The folder contained a number of files, but they all drew on one common thread – work done in the underground laboratory at the Triskelion. Here. The Morgue.

Because Obie left him to his own devices, trusting him to work through the last design issues with the Jericho, Tony had been able to easily hack the computer and to find his way to the fucking evil lair. That’s what he called it in his head. He felt a little nauseated when he entered the lab, but now all he wanted to do was leave and pretend he’d never seen anything. He longed to go back in time, before he met Steve with his earnest eyes, undying devotion, and broad beautiful shoulders, erasing everything he’d learned in an afternoon. 

He stumbled backwards away from the corpse and rubbed away the tears blinding him. He needed to get out, to flee, to pretend. God, how was he going to pretend he hadn’t seen all of this? How was he going to gleefully accept some other bodyguard and not ask about Steve? If he tested them, if he quizzed them his mother would be in danger. If he didn’t who knows what they would do with his mother? How they would harm her? God! Why did he insist on leaving the Protectorate? If he’d stayed in his place, then his mother would be safe. Maybe the Stark Protectorate wouldn’t have made a deal with the devil.

Staggering away, Tony hit a stainless-steel tray and it clattered to the floor. He stared down at it, the instruments of science scattered in front of him. Nothing made sense anymore. Science was supposed to be pure, a pursuit of truth and knowledge, not used as a tool against humanity, against a bodyguard who didn’t even remember his best friend’s name. Jesus. Fuck. What was he going to do?

“Stark.”

The call didn’t register at first.

“Stark, Tony.”

He jerked and turned to respond. Natasha stood in the doorway of the laboratory. The lights from the corridor filtered in, made the already eerie scene laid out before Tony more ghoulish and horrifying. “Agent Romanoff?” He blinked like he fought sleep off, but it was more of a stupor of shock.

“Come,” she ordered. “We don’t have much time.”

He took one last look at Steve’s dead body, shuddered, and shook his head at her. “I’m not going anywhere with any one of you.”

Natasha slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Her words were rapid, concise, and spat out with a no-nonsense, follow me or I will fuck you up tone. “You don’t have much time. While most of your meddling on the network was brilliant, you forgot to make sure the cameras weren’t surveilling you when you found your way down here. I managed to clean up most of the data, but it’s archived every 15 minutes. That means there’s some data I missed that will show your presence in restricted areas. Lord, help me, I can’t figure out how you managed to get through the A.I locked doors but that’s for another time. 

“Right now, we have a window of less than 5 minutes to get you up to the main lobby. If you’re there, then there’s a possibility that the missing footage of where you’ve been can be ignored, because the lobby isn’t surveilled as tightly as these floors. If you want to get out of here and not draw questions, come with me right now.”

“But, Steve-.” Tony pointed helplessly to the remains on the table.

She ignored the body on the table as if it wasn’t her concern. Natasha hardened her gaze. “Come. There’s no time.”

Tony swallowed down the bitter taste of bile and forced himself to walk toward Natasha. “How can I trust you?”

“That’s up to you to decide. But I can tell you this, Director Fury was attacked this afternoon. No one knows if he’s going to survive. Right now, I’m getting you safely back to your family.”

Fury? Attacked? Tony only nodded and followed Natasha into the corridor. The buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights shrieked in his head and pulsed with his growing headache. There was no time. Tony had to leave his bodyguard behind and trust this agent to get him to safety. Her motives not apparent, Tony crossed his fingers and trusted her. All the while, Tony kept thinking about the last text Steve sent him.

_Abort. Stay Safe. I’m coming._

Tony choked back a sob and followed Natasha, her red hair like a flame burning away youthful naiveté.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Embraceable You is by Ira Gershwin. I want to point out that I did change some of the lyrics because some of the word choices weren't nice. So I changed them. ;)
> 
> Also, thanks for reading. I also did split this chapter. I had to stop because I was pretty sure that I had another 10k to go with this chapter and I so needed finish. I needed to feel accomplished. Hope you like it!!
> 
> Oh PS I loved all your comments and will answer as I caught up with things!! Thanks!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I am currently working on several stories and plan to rotate through them. I hope you like this one! It's going to be fun to write - I've never done identity porn before - and this is double identity porn! LOL!


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